


Come Back To Me

by Jambi10



Category: Assassin's Creed - All Media Types
Genre: Angst, Drama, F/F, Romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-31
Updated: 2020-12-25
Packaged: 2021-03-06 03:49:09
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 12
Words: 25,772
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25626976
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jambi10/pseuds/Jambi10
Summary: After falling for Kyra and being forced to kill her lover, Kassandra tries to flee Mykonos before she gets too wrapped up. But Kyra makes her face both her guilt and the love that she shouldn't let go, for neither of them could ever form such a connection with anyone else.
Relationships: Kassandra/Kyra (Assassin's Creed)
Comments: 57
Kudos: 133





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> So this story takes place right after A Night To Remember (it is canon up until then). This is my first fanfiction, so I hope it's okay. Not sure how often I will update, I'm pretty slow. Please leave a comment or kudos, it would make my day! Thank you and enjoy.

Kassandra stood with her back to the Adrestia facing Mykonos Island, taking in its beauty one last time; the delicate pink flowers, the water which flowed between houses. The sun was just meeting the horizon as it fell, highlighting the edges of trees in a warm glow. It certainly had a unique appearance, one she had never seen before. But it was breathtaking to look at.

She had decided to stay at a local inn last night; her intentions were originally to sail away that night, but the rebels were, albeit unsurprisingly, very enthusiastic partiers (to put it lightly). Kassandra had found herself slurring her words and seeing double before she knew it. Even in her state, she knew she was in no condition to travel on a ship, let alone command one. She had slept until this evening. Despite the fact that most of last night was fuzzy, she still clearly remembered what led her to drink so much in the first place. 

She had killed Thaletas. When she had lied to Kyra’s face, giving her best wishes to Thaletas, his lifeless corpse was still there on the beach. The gold and silver metal on his armor, glowing ever so slightly in the soft moonlight; his body, growing colder as the night went on and the warmth escaped from him; his blood, on the sand, being washed away by gentle waves.

Kassandra hadn’t meant for this to happen, for any of this to happen. She wasn’t supposed to have met someone like Kyra. She wasn’t supposed to have fallen in love with her, and she definitely wasn’t supposed to have killed her lover. It was too much.

“Why did he have to be a Spartan?”, she thought. It was stupid of her to think that a Spartan - especially one like Thaletas - would let what she did go. She tried to keep reminding herself that she had no choice, that he forced her hand. It was true, after all. If she didn’t kill him, she would have died. Either way, things ended badly for everyone involved.

As Kassandra peered upwards, gazing at the Temple of Artemis, a rush of emotions came over her: joy, love, and guilt, mixing together and leaving her frustrated. 

“I _always_ hit my targets.”

Maybe Kyra was referring to her then, or maybe she was referring to the Ibex. Regardless, Kyra was right in both scenarios. She had hit Kassandra like she hunted those ibex; quick and effortless. Doomed before they even knew what hit them.

“Finally ready to set sail, captain?” Barnabas spoke cheerfully as he appeared beside Kassandra, placing his hands on his hips as he joined her in taking in the island. 

“Yes. Are the crew ready?” Kassandra replied, not breaking her gaze from the temple.

“Of course, but if you need more time -”

“No. I’m ready.” she interjected, not wanting to leave any time for her to reconsider.

This was what she had to do, regardless of what, deep inside, she truly wanted to do. She had to leave, and never come back. Leave before she saw Kyra, before she saw her face. The gods seemed to have other plans, however.

She had only just stepped onto the dock when she heard a yell that made her heart sink.

_“Kassandra!” ___

__The familiar voice made her heart beat out of her chest; it made her freeze in her tracks, and broke down her usually strong composure._ _

__She turned slowly, dreading the face she was about to meet._ _

__Kyra was storming towards her, furious. Kassandra had never seen someone so angry. As she came closer, however, she realised that her face was more one of intense anguish; her eyes were red, her cheeks glinting, still wet. It broke her heart to see her like that, knowing it was because of her. It was exactly why she wanted to leave, exactly what she wanted to avoid._ _

__She stood there frozen, struggling to find her voice._ _

__“Kyra-”_ _

__She was interrupted by Kyra’s hands grabbing the edges of her breastplate, forcefully dragging - almost throwing - Kassandra around so their positions were switched. She stepped up to her, pointing a finger in her face as she regained her balance. Kassandra struggled to meet her eyes._ _

__“You… _You… _” she repeated, struggling to find the words.___ _

____“Kyra, please-”_ _ _ _

____“You killed him!” she finally mustered strained words, emphasising them with a hard shove to Kassandra’s chest, making her stumble a few steps back._ _ _ _

____“You killed him, and you were just going to run, like- like a coward!” she tried to shout her words, but her voice broke, tired and strained._ _ _ _

____“Kyra, you don’t understand-” she spoke quietly but calmly, finally forcing herself to meet Kyra’s eyes._ _ _ _

____“I trusted you, Kassandra!” she ignored Kassandra’s words, her anger finally giving way to sadness. Her brown eyes were dark and desperate with despair, piercing into Kassandra’s soul and feeding her guilt._ _ _ _

____“This isn’t about trust, Kyra. I didn’t have a choice, he would have killed me!”_ _ _ _

____Kyra laughed coldly, a sound that pained Kassandra like an unrelenting kick in the ribs._ _ _ _

____“I swear to you, I tried to stop him, but he forced my hand.” Kassandra continued. “Do you think that I wanted to, Kyra?”_ _ _ _

____Kyra wasn’t looking at Kassandra, as she paced in front of her, rubbing her temples, seemingly in her own world as she mulled over her thoughts._ _ _ _

____“Because I didn’t! I would never want to hurt you, Kyra, I swear.”_ _ _ _

____The overwhelming, frantic thoughts in Kyra’s head, along with Kassandra’s pleas seemed to fuel her anger, as she finally stopped pacing only to meet Kassandra’s face with a surprisingly hard slap that was so loud it seemed to have drawn the eyes and attention of every person in sight. Kassandra’s head recoiled to the side for only a moment. While she recovered quickly, the slap had cut right through her, boring a hole in her heart. They stood in silence for a moment, inches apart, tension thick in the air like smoke, almost suffocating. Kassandra tried to control her breathing, struggling to keep her composure. Her knuckles were clenched tight, knuckles white, as she straightened herself again. She kept her chin up, shoulders squared, but focused her gaze onto the horizon, past Kyra’s piercing eyes._ _ _ _

____“Look at me.” Kyra’s low, quiet words cut through the silence._ _ _ _

____When Kassandra hesitantly shifted her gaze to meet Kyra’s eyes, her heart sank again. She wished she had been met with anger, because this hurt so much more. Kyra’s eyes were not harsh and piercing this time. They were soft again in the worst possible way, showing her hurt and grief in ways that words couldn’t. A grief more of the loss of trust, rather than of Thaletas. A softness that not only spoke of her sadness, but of the lingering affection for the woman in front of her that refused to leave. It was a look that betrayed her next harsh words._ _ _ _

____“You must leave, now, Kassandra. Leave, and never come back.”_ _ _ _

____Kassandra stood there speechless, again frustrated with the barrage of conflicting emotions that had hit her in the span of just a few minutes. Leave, and never come back. The way Kyra had spoken with a sense of desperation that spread to her eyes was if, like Kassandra, she had acted before she could reconsider; before her true longing gave way._ _ _ _

____“Kyra…” her voice was ghostly, barely a whisper._ _ _ _

____Kyra stood there for a moment, searching Kassandra’s eyes as tears welled again in her own._ _ _ _

____And then, before Kassandra could muster another word, she promptly walked past her, pushing past her shoulder as she went back to where she had come from. To her own surprise, Kassandra felt anger boil inside her as she watched, frozen, as she walked away. Anger at how Kyra had simply come here to bark at her and leave without giving her a chance to explain._ _ _ _

____“I think you should do what she says, Kassandra.” Barnabas once again appeared next to her, but kept his distance as he recognised the anger in her._ _ _ _

____She growled low, primal in her throat. Ignoring his advice, she began walking purposefully, determined to catch Kyra._ _ _ _

____This wasn’t how it was supposed to go. She had planned everything perfectly, and it was going to go perfectly; but no, she had come here and ruined everything. There was no way she could simply get on the ship and sail away now. Kyra had started this, and now Kassandra was going to finish it._ _ _ _


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I do apologize for how short these chapters are (which is largely due to my slow writing), but I'd rather not write more than I feel is necessary. I don't want to force things. It also helps me with pacing, which I really struggle with. Although, I do think that they'll get longer eventually. However, it does mean that I'll update more frequently - well, frequently by my standards at least...

Kyra stepped into the abandoned house, swinging the door shut behind her. It was a small house, overrun with vines, but it was quaint. It gave out a comfort in its lack of space. Small pink petals were scattered here and there across the floor, laying beside the remnants of those which had wilted. The floor was bare, aside from a sizeable rug which lay in the center of the room, faded and frayed. The place had barely changed over the years, nor had it housed any residents but dust. It had been a sort of haven for her ever since she was a child. She didn't get many chances to be by herself in the midst of the rebellion - she simply couldn't afford to. But, when she was able to, she escaped to her own personal safe house. It was a source of solace and reassurance when she was afraid or overwhelmed. At the moment, she was considering moving in.

She stopped, taking a slow deep breath. She stood still for a moment, trying to calm herself down and subdue the millions of thoughts and emotions running wild in her head. 

“Oh, gods…” she uttered under her breath, overwhelmed. She smoothed her hands over her forehead and her hair, trying to calm herself before she broke down again.

Looking up, she found some comfort. Of the house’s many damages, the ceiling burdened the most. A maze of jagged cracks lead to an opening in the middle, where the moon was settled above in the sky, perfectly aligned. It gave off a gentle glow, softly highlighting the room with the faintest light. She closed her eyes. 

_Inhale. Exhale._

She opened them again. Peering up at the silver moon, she felt things beginning to slow. She felt calm, almost at peace. Wondering if the gods were taking pity on her, she was quickly proven wrong. The gods were cruel; just as they always had been.

The door swung open as Kassandra stepped inside, closing it behind her. Kyra was speechless. The _audacity._ Even from Kassandra. She could see her jaw grinding, her fists squeezing, as she stood in front of the door, as if mustering up the courage to speak. 

“Are you drunk?” Kyra’s voice was once again thick with venom.

Kassandra didn’t respond.

“What part of _‘leave and never come back’_ didn’t you understand? Did I not make myself clear enough?”

Kassandra took a calm step forward, though the white of her knuckles would suggest she was anything but calm.

“I am not going to leave until you listen to me.” 

Kyra didn’t know what to say, as she stood there with her mouth open. She had genuinely expected Kassandra to just do what she told her; it was what she had always done up to this point after all, albeit maybe not because of fear. A part of her was glad she wasn't now, but that part wasn’t realistic; it was foolish.

“I’m sorry about what happened, Kyra. I am. I didn’t intend for it. But if I didn’t kill him, he was going to kill me.” 

“I didn’t have a choice, I swear to you.” Kassandra continued. A moment of silence passed.

“You lied to my face.” Kyra spoke coldly, betrayal and hurt evident in her tone.

“You know that I couldn’t bear to-”

“Why?” Kyra interrupted her with a firm voice.

“Because I couldn’t bear to do such a thing!” Kassandra ended her sentence, the frustration that had been building releasing.

“Because it would kill me,” she continued, her voice softening with sadness, “to see your face change. To hear your voice change. Because of me.” Kyra heard her voice break. It was the most heartbreaking sound.

“I couldn’t see you hate me… although, I suppose I have lost that battle now.” Kassandra searched Kyra’s eyes, wondering if it was guilt or grief that she saw, a reflection of her own. 

“I am so sorry, Kyra.”

Kyra didn’t respond. She listened with her arms folded as she looked at the ground. Her fiery demeanor seemed to have diminished for now, but when she saw the sadness in her eyes, she would rather Kyra hate her.

Kassandra waited for Kyra to say something. Silence still hung in the air, however, as she turned her back to Kassandra.

“Please, say something.” Kyra's silence scared her, made her assume the worst.

Kyra didn’t respond as she mulled over everything that was racing in her mind. Thaletas was dead. Kassandra had killed him. She had no choice, he had tried to kill her. He brought it on himself. But he was dead because of Kassandra. He was dead because of Kyra. Because of them. Because of what they did. That night - under the stars, on the beach. 

But it wasn’t just that night, or the morning after. It was ever since that dagger sped past Kassandra’s face, only to provoke a calm line of criticism. It was ever since she returned Kyra's intense glare with one of mere intrigue, claiming she indeed was Athena herself with spears at her throat. It wasn’t just lust like she had thought, like she had tried to convince herself. It was better, safer, to believe that, but it could not have been more wrong.

“Kyra?”

“You’re looking for your mother, no?” Kyra finally spoke, calmly, with a newfound softness that took Kassandra off guard after the anger that had so recently possessed her.

“...Yes, I am,” Kassandra replied, frowning as to why Kyra had asked.

“Find her, Kassandra.” she finally turned to face Kassandra. Her eyes were soft, but with a sense of desperation in them. There was a longing hidden behind.

“Find her, okay?” she closed the gap between them, now inches apart. 

“You find her,” she placed her hands on Kassandra’s cheeks; it was a firm grasp, but not painful - nor was it intended to be. It shared the desperation that was so evident in her eyes, and now in her voice. Her hands felt familiar on her skin, comforting and heartwarming. It felt right, like they were carved from the same stone. 

“...And then, you come back to me.”

Kassandra nodded instinctively, her true desires finally taking control.

“You come back to me, okay?”

“I will.” 

Kyra had seemed to be keeping her emotions at bay until now, but when Kassandra placed her hands on top of hers, her strong reassuring fingers interweaving into hers, everything broke down. The walls that she had spent so long building, brick by brick, to keep herself from giving in because it would hurt too much - they fell down with a single touch. A touch that reminded her of all the joy, guilt, love and sadness that she had felt because of her. But it made her realize that she had missed it desperately.

“I promise.”

Tears welled and fell from Kyra’s eyes within seconds, and she leaned her forehead against Kassandra’s, squeezing her eyes shut, hoping she couldn't see her cry. But when Kassandra spoke, a whisper telling her that it was ok, she didn't hold it back. She let it out, allowing herself to release and break down, crying in Kassandra's touch for minutes which felt like hours. When her tears didn't fall anymore, the absence of her quiet sobs leaving bare silence, neither of them moved. Neither wanted to, for the time they spent enveloped in the other's touch never felt long enough.

“Kassandra, I…” her words were breathless, melancholic.

“I know.” she spoke reassuringly. The act of someone understanding Kyra like this, even without words, touched her deeply; it evoked an immense appreciation that she could only dream of expressing. It was a sort of affection, a sort of tenderness that she had never felt before. It made her fall even more.

Kassandra unlocked her fingers after gentle squeeze, a reassurance that she would not leave her, and moved them to Kyra’s cheeks, her thumbs stroking them softly. Kyra sighed, closing her eyes and leaning in to the touch.

Kassandra wanted nothing more than to close the gap between them, between their lips. She ached to take Kyra, feel her skin on hers and never part. But she didn’t have the upper hand here, nor did she deserve it. She stood still, allowing Kyra to take control, to let things unfold as only she desired. 

Kyra opened her eyes, her gaze fixed on Kassandra’s lips. Her fingers traced the outline of her ear, tucking stray hairs away. She met Kassandra's eyes once more. They held a rare softness in deep amber, a softness reserved only for her. 

With a sharp inhale, she finally allowed herself to give in.


	3. Chapter 3

Their lips finally met in a soft yet desperate kiss, a feeling that both had missed like no other. In a few days a lifetime had passed. It almost felt wrong; not just to Kassandra, but to Kyra. It felt wrong, with Thaletas’ body still on the beach, only just growing cold. But, despite the guilt they both felt, it was inevitable. It always had been. Kyra had learned now that she never truly loved Thaletas. She thought she did, but with each moment that passed with Kassandra, she realised that what she felt for him was merely the sad, withered shell of a love that maybe could have existed in another life. What she felt now was real. It radiated between them, enveloping them both. They shared a greed without selfishness, an intense hunger without overindulgence, because it never felt like enough, and it never would be.

Kassandra’s hands travelled all over Kyra’s figure. She burned with the intense need to touch every inch of her so she couldn’t forget how she felt under her fingertips, as to forget how she felt would be to lose her. She pulled Kyra flush against her so there was no space between them, desperate to be as close to her as possible.

Their lips parted as Kyra pulled away, breathless, her hands slowly sliding from the back of Kassandra’s head over her cheeks, moving down to rest on her chest as she gripped her breastplate. They trembled ever so slightly, as did her voice.

“Kassandra, please, I… I…” she struggled to speak her thoughts, her desires, as they lodged in her throat.

“It’s ok.” Kassandra moved her hand to Kyra’s cheek. Kyra blinked, and tears began to fall again.

“Tell me what you need,” Kassandra spoke softly, wiping away tears with her thumb.

Kyra was overwhelmed by Kassandra’s heartfelt affection. The sensitivity and softness she showed in moments like these made her heart swell, made the blood in her veins burn in the best way. It made her angry at how complicated it all was, at how the gods never allowed her simplicity, but held it just out of her reach, taunting and teasing.

“I… I need you to take me tonight. Please… I need you…” 

Kassandra cupped Kyra’s cheeks, understanding what she needed - what both of them needed.

“It’s ok. I’ve got you.” she whispered, closing the space between them so their lips could meet again. 

-

Kyra came with a fading call of the woman inside her, her voice taken by an overwhelming pleasure which she lost herself in. No sound escaped her open mouth, as if lost in a vacuum. She grasped Kassandra's forearm tightly, not only for support, but to ensure that she stayed there. Kassandra continued to help her as she trembled against her, slowly guiding her back down to the ground with the slightest gentle movements inside her that tightened the grip on her arm and made Kyra throw her head back. Her voice gradually returned in the form of faint whimpers and shaky breaths. She placed quivering palms on Kassandra's cheeks, studying those glistening amber eyes which were so gentle in moments like these. In the pale moonlight, her olive skin practically shining, Kassandra could have sworn that it was Aphrodite herself beneath her. But, if Aphrodite had appeared with a knock at the door, it would have been a call gone unanswered. 

Later, they lay as one, legs intertwined, bodies cradling one another, Kyra’s head buried under Kassandra’s chin. One breathed in, and the other breathed out, and to separate them would be to suffocate them. The world was blissfully quiet; the faint waves in the distance and their breaths were the only sound in the air, but both of them could hear the faintest thumping of a heartbeat, not knowing if it was their own. Kyra had taken Kassandra's hand to hold between them, tracing every callus and scar with her thumb. When she finally spoke, it was with a calmness that had been missing for days. 

“Why did you come here?”

“Because you asked.”

“Not for the drachmae?”

“I liked the way you wrote.” 

“The way I wrote?”

“Yes. It intrigued me.”

“Is that so?” she looked amused.

Kassandra smiled softy. The letter was not why she came to Mykonos, or even the drachmae. It was a curiosity that she had never felt before, an urge that told her to go. It was as if the Pythia had whispered prophecies to her in her sleep, beautiful tragedies about a doomed love.

“I was curious as to why you would ask for me along with Sparta.” she continued.

“What makes you say that?”

She didn’t know. of course she didn’t. She often forgot that very few knew who she was. Usually it was met with relief. But now it was met with a sadness, as if Kyra had fallen for only part of her, yet to meet what defined her.

“Sparta betrayed my family. We aren’t on the best of terms. It’s a long story.”

“We have time.” she spoke confidently, ignoring the fact that Kassandra would leave at the sun’s rise because she did not want to acknowledge it. She would not sleep tonight, she would not waste the night away. She would not leave this moment one second too early.

And so Kassandra told her. She spoke calmly about her past, as if it were the memory of another. It didn’t make her overly emotional anymore, because her sadness had slowly been replaced with anger; and as she came to terms with her life, that anger had been taken over by the most damaging indifference. She had learned to subdue her emotions towards it, because they would only get in her way. She didn’t hold anything back, because she knew that Kyra would hold and protect that memory as if it were her own. She knew she would seal it off from the world, conceal it from others, because she was one of the only ones who cared that much.

“I was born in Sparta. So was my brother. My father was loyal to his people, more so that anyone I’ve ever met." She stopped a moment, to suffocate the anger that was rising.

“When Alexios was only a baby, a prophecy was told that he would bring about the fall of Sparta. My father proved his loyalty then.” she spoke with a scowl.

“We were brought to Mount Tagyetos, and Alexios was to be killed. But I couldn’t save him. I tried, but I made a priest fall, the one who held him in his arms.” She paused.

“So, he threw me off the mountain too. He grabbed me by the wrist and let me fall to my death. I will never forget his face. And I will never forget my mother’s cries.” Kyra cringed at that, held Kassandra’s hand tighter. She thought of her own mater, her screams which she remembered so vividly. She changed the subject to rid the memory from her mind.

“But you didn’t die.”

“No. Neither did my brother. But he might as well be dead.” 

“You carry a lot on your shoulders. I only wish I could carry some for you.”

“You are. I feel lighter, telling you about all this.”

“I am doing the bare minimum, Kassandra. It saddens me that you have not been offered chances in the past.”

“I have grown used to it. It’s ok.” She sounded genuinely content, and it broke Kyra's heart.

She brought Kassandra's hand to her lips and kissed her knuckles. 

“It shouldn’t be.”

Kassandra didn’t respond, and she chose not to linger any longer.

“What did you mean about your brother?” she felt Kassandra tense again. She took a moment to begin.

“There is… a very powerful cult that has him in their grip. They have control all across the Greek world, and they have been trying to destroy my family for generations. I fear that I have lost him.” Her voice began to weaken at those last words.

“A cult?”

Kassandra looked at her then, almost with an expression of shame.

“You don’t take me for a madman, do you?”

Kyra reached up, placed her hand on her cheek, her thumb stroking softly with reassurance.

“I take you for someone who holds a great burden.” She paused for a moment, eyes searching Kassandra’s. They pushed without forcefulness, looking deeper until she was vulnerable for the first time since they met. And just like that, there were no more barriers, no longer a veil between them. She saw what Kassandra hid, what she was haunted by. And she accepted it, understood it, without hesitation. She held it in the palm of her hand, and Kassandra melted into her.

“You don’t need to be ashamed of your grief,” she whispered. “It is ok for you to hurt, Kassandra. You are allowed to let yourself feel.”

And she did. With Kyra holding her, fragile as a withered petal in her arms, she let herself go. She let herself cry, let herself grieve in the open. For the first time in a long time, she opened up her insides, and rid of some of the pain she chose to keep there, finding some catharsis which introduced itself like a stranger. She had never felt more vulnerable, but in Kyra’s grasp she felt secure. Her tears fell silently down her face, as Kyra stayed under her chin, still holding her hand in hers. Kyra didn't rush her, nor did she speak or move. She let her take her time, to speak only when she was ready. 

"If I cannot save Alexios," she spoke finally, "my mother is the only one I have left. And I have not even found her yet." Her voice was strained, tired.

"You _will_ find her, Kassandra." she spoke with an unwavering certainty. Kassandra's hand tensed under hers.

"I hope you're right." 

"Where will you go now?"

"Keos. There's someone there who might know something about where my mother is."

"Keos? That place is crawling with pirates. They don't take kindly to visitors."

"Believe me, I'm aware. But I can handle myself."

"I know you can. I've seen it. But you bleed just like they do, and I worry."

“You don’t need to worry about my death. It is anything but imminent.”

“That’s not what I’m afraid of,” she murmured into the crook of her neck. “I’m afraid of waiting for someone who will never come back.”

“You have nothing to be scared of then.”

Kyra didn’t speak, but a silent tear fell down her cheek, a sparkle in the moonlight. 

“I don’t want you to be in misery because of me, Kyra. That’s what _I’m_ afraid of.” 

Kyra looked up to meet Kassandra’s eyes. When she saw the fragility there, she sealed their lips with a deep kiss, for she could not bring herself to tell her those fears were true, and she could not lie to her.


	4. Chapter 4

When Kyra woke, it was the sun aligned in the ceiling’s opening. The room almost took on an entirely new appearance in the light, although familiarity could be found where it couldn’t quite reach the darkness in distant spaces. Its intricate details could now be found, however, from the texture of the white walls like goosebumps to the faded patterns of the rug they lay on.

Her cheek rested on an unfamiliar surface now, she realised. Hard, no longer warm. She turned her head to the side. Kassandra was there, still laying beside her, peering up at the ceiling. Her arm was curled around Kyra’s shoulders, holding her close. Her hand absent-mindedly stroked Kyra’s hair, strong fingers with a light touch. She had dressed back in the armor she wore the day before, which explained the unfamiliar feeling on her skin, her cheek on her breastplate.

She thought of how Kassandra had been up long enough to get dressed, and cursed herself for being such a heavy sleeper. She had lost too much time already, hours that could have been spent with her. Dread began to creep in at the realisation that, if she had dressed only to lay back down with her, she was preparing to leave when she woke.

She looked at Kassandra for a moment, who was still staring at the ceiling. There was a reason she had spoke of her as Athena when they met. Her features all held stark contrasts within; her eyes were sharp enough to envy those of Medusa, but when she looked at Kyra in precious moments, they glimmered in a sea of amber, like the sweetest honey. Every line, from her jaw to the bridge of her nose was sharp and defined, but Kyra always noticed how soft they became when she smiled, or when she listened to her, talked to her.

 _“Look how far you’ve come,”_ she had said, and Kassandra looked at her with a smile and eyes that had never shone so brightly.

 _“How far_ we’ve _come.”_

She tilted her head up at Kassandra, who turned to look at her. 

“Hey.” Kassandra breathed, barely a whisper. 

Kyra lifted her hand, placing it on Kassandra’s cheek, and Kassandra closed her eyes briefly at the touch, giving a deep breath. 

“You’re leaving soon.” Kyra whispered. It wasn’t a question, rather a declaration, a reminder. 

Kassandra took another deep breath. She gingerly moved strands of dark hair behind Kyra's ear, before settling her hand on her cheek. Her thumb stroked there, and Kyra sighed at the familiar motion which always made her melt. She leaned into her palm, delving into her touch.

“I don’t want to.” she spoke with no hope, however, because they both knew that while she didn’t want to, she had to. The inevitability of it all imposed a great heaviness on to the air.

“I know.”

A minute of silence had passed when they both leaned in at the same time to meet in a kiss. It was slow, tender, unlike the intense hunger of the night before. There was no rush. Kassandra began to feel wetness on her cheeks, tears that weren’t her own, but the firm hands holding her told her not to stop. Kyra rooted her fingers into Kassandra’s hair, a tight grasp which kept her close. She could feel Kyra becoming desperate, frantic; but when she pushed at her, she pushed back just enough to steady her. She would tighten her fingers in Kassandra’s hair, but she would continue her gentle strokes on Kyra’s cheeks. Kyra’s lips reflected her desperation as they surged against Kassandra’s like crashing waves, but she didn’t relent. She kept her pace, slow and deep, guiding her back down to the ground. She held her securely, slowing everything down gradually until they were balanced, Kyra meeting her rhythm. Eventually, just as naturally as the tears ceased, the slow pace came to a halt. Kyra parted, resting her head on Kassandra's chest.

A wave of guilt crashed over Kassandra then, stronger than it had ever been. She thought of how Kyra had overcome the most terrible tragedies; she grew up an orphan, her mother murdered, only to lead a rebellion to victory. She found out about who Podarkes really was, only to demolish his control with her honour still intact. Not only was the woman unbreakable, she was fierce. She had thrown a dagger right at the mighty Eagle Bearer, and she certainly hadn't missed for a lack of skill. She had downed a cup of wine one minute merely to fight a battle the next, an aim that was better than most could hope to be even when drunk. Kyra had overcome every obstacle that had been thrown at her and emerged without a scratch. And yet, here she was, a million broken pieces that her arms struggled to hold. Because of her.

“I meant what I said.” Kassandra spoke quietly. 

“What about?”

“I will come back, Kyra.” 

Kyra didn't speak.

“I will.” she repeated, quieter this time, as she began to realise that Kyra would always doubt her. She had lost her trust with what happened to Thaletas - and deservedly so. 

Kyra nodded, but her heart clenched, because it was something Kassandra could never promise. There was no certainty in her return, and it scared her. She wanted more than anything to believe that she indeed would come back, but that would be naive. And she knew how cruel the gods could be.

-

Kyra was standing by the wall then, dressing in the clothes she wore the day before. Kassandra, still on the rug, sat watching her with an arm slung over her knee. Her posture was relaxed, but her eyes betrayed her.

“You could come out to the ship with me.” 

“I don’t think that would be a good idea.” Kassandra nodded to that. She looked down.

Kyra looked at her with what could have been guilt, or sadness; or both. It could have even been pity. She made her way over to Kassandra, stopping to stand next to her. Moving her hand to cup her chin, she gently tipped her head up to look at her. 

“I doubt your crew would take kindly to me anymore.” 

Keeping hold of her, she sat down carefully onto her lap. She moved her hands onto her cheeks. 

“That’s not true. They found it entertaining, if anything.” 

“You know what I mean.” Kassandra looked at her with remorse then.

“So this is where I leave you, then.” 

Kyra’s stomach tossed and turned at that. She averted her gaze in an attempt to conceal the tears that were welling in her eyes. She squeezed her eyes shut for a moment, vowing to herself that she would not cry for yet another time. 

She gave a small nod, and dropped her hands down. Shifting off and rising to her feet, she offered a hand to Kassandra. She took it, standing somewhat apprehensive in front of Kyra. In her face she could see a clear misery; red eyes and lips that almost quivered, but despite it all she managed to give a small smile. One that held both beauty and tragedy, like stars in the night sky that had died centuries ago.

Kyra turned then, retreating to the edge of the room to gather Kassandra’s few belongings for her; her sword, bow, quiver and spear. Kassandra appeared beside her, taking and equipping them carefully. Every movement was with hesitation. Kassandra watched Kyra warily, nervous at her silence. They didn’t speak until they both stood facing each other before the door. 

“What will you do now?”

“I have people to lead - an island to rebuild.” Kyra paused. Her eyes glazed over in thought for a moment. “But first… I have someone I need to bury.” 

A punch to the gut. Kyra’s voice was weak, ghostly, but her words were harsh, sharp like a blade cutting through Kassandra with ease. And maybe Kyra didn’t mean for that. But nonetheless, she was left bleeding out on the ground, opening up her own wounds because it was what she deserved.

“You can’t expect me to leave you like this.” Kassandra spoke quietly, looking at Kyra with remorse.

“You must, Kassandra. I could not be any other way right now.”

“I could stay another night…” her voice faded, knowing it would not fix anything.

“It would be selfish of the both of us for you to stay.”

“Maybe, but-”

“Kassandra,” she cut her off, taking her hands and holding them in her own between them. “I will be ok. Just…” she moved her hands to Kassandra’s neck, under the sides of her jaw. She pressed her forehead against hers, squeezing her eyes shut. “Come back. Okay?” she whispered.

Kassandra held Kyra’s arms above her elbows. 

“I promise.”

A moment of stillness passed before Kyra let her go. She gently nudged her back with her forehead to separate them. Kassandra took a reluctant step backwards towards the door, a kind of sorrow fixated on her expression.

“Go - the sooner you leave, the sooner you return.” 

As a parting gesture, Kassandra took Kyra’s hand in hers. She brought it up to her lips and placed a kiss on the back of her hand, as she held Kyra’s eyes. They glinted as she began to break. 

“Don’t you die on me, misthios.” Kyra choked out.

“I wouldn’t dream of it.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry, I know this one is super short. Next one should make up for it, though. Thanks for reading!


	5. Chapter 5

Kyra couldn’t bring herself to bury Thaletas herself. She couldn’t bear to see him again, like when she had found him. She would likely never rid the image from her mind, of him face down in the sand, his skin blue where it wasn’t caked in red. So, instead, she had gotten Praxos and some other rebels to bury him for her. 

She kneeled in front of his grave, awash with guilt.

“You fool,” she whispered. “You glorious fool.”

It pained her, the way things had transpired. Everything could have been perfect, if Thaletas wasn’t such a hothead. If he had arrived after Kassandra. If she hadn’t been _so damned selfish._

She began to cry then, maybe not because of grief, but remorse. Thaletas may have never been right for her, and that was made clear when Kassandra arrived. But she knew that he was a good man - that he deserved better. And maybe he had brought about his own demise, but Kyra could not stop thinking that it was because of her.

She wasn’t angry at Kassandra, nor did she blame her. She knew it wasn’t her fault. Once Thaletas set his mind on something, there was no stopping him. But it had changed things between them, and she feared that it would never be the same. That there would forever be a blemish in their relationship. That every time she laughed with her, touched her, was held by her, there would be that sinking feeling lurking in the corner. That every moment of joy, love, affection, would be coincided with the aftershocks of guilt. 

And so, when she later knelt at the Altar of Artemis, the flowers did not remind her of a simpler, sweeter past. They reminded her of the naivety they held mere days ago, joking and flirting. The blind eye they turned to their doom because its importance did not compare then. The flowers no longer brought her peace. They only brought her sorrow.

-

“Should I be worried, captain?”

Kassandra was snapped out of her daze by Barnabas’ voice. Even with the restlessness of the boat, the chants of the crew and the roaring of the ocean waves, she had once again managed to slip into the depths of her mind. The sun was piercing into her eyes, but she was falling in and out of darkness.

“What about?” she uncrossed her arms, leaning forward onto the railing. Supported on her elbows, she peered out in the distance without actually focusing on anything.

“You.” 

She dropped her head for a moment. 

“You don’t need to worry about me, Barnabas.”

“Oh, but I do.” he leaned his back against the railing, crossing his arms. He looked at her with concern, masked with a gentle smile.

“You have barely said a word,” he continued, “barely moved a muscle. And yet you seem to have travelled the whole Greek world in there.” he motioned to her head.

She looked at him then, met with a knowing expression. He turned to the crew, the shores of Keos approaching.

“Prepare to dock!” he yelled out, knowing full well Kassandra was not commandeering right now, despite her position on the deck. Turning back to face her, he smiled.

“I just need you to know that I am always here for you, Kassandra.”

She nodded. There was some comfort in knowing that she could always rely on Barnabas. He was one of the few people she had left.

“I know. ...Thank you.” 

“No need to thank me.” He gave her a pat on the shoulder, then looked out at Keos. 

“Kassandra,” he continued, “I do hope you’re aware of the pirates that roam these islands?”

“They’re pretty hard to miss - but they’re nothing I can’t handle.” Barnabas laughed at that.

“Oh, I am not doubting your abilities. But I would still try to avoid them as best you can.”

“I’ll be as careful as I always am.”

“ _That’s_ what I’m worried about!” 

-

The first thing that Kassandra noticed about Keos was how well it masked its disarray. From outside its shores, it actually looked quite beautiful, with palm trees and crystal waters. But, the black smoke that forever rose from within served as a painful reminder of the chaos it harbored; entire villages turned black, piles of ash that could be the ruins of homes or the remnants of the dead.

Xenia, on the other hand, did not hide the danger and power she possessed whatsoever. If anything, she flaunted it.

“You have some nerve sneaking into my city.” she towered over Kassandra on the overlook, sharp blue eyes under black smudges. She wasn’t used to looking up at people to talk - it put her off. 

“I think we both know your pirates wouldn’t have let me in. I needed to speak with you.” 

Xenia took a step up to Kassandra, arms crossed.

“Then speak, before I cut out your tongue for wasting my time.” 

Kassandra took a deep breath to compose herself. In any other circumstance she would have used her spear to resolve things with a pirate, with how painfully obstinate they could be. But she needed her information, desperately.

“I’m looking for a woman. She left Sparta when I was a child.”

“I’m going to need more than that. A name, for one.”

“Myrrine,” she said quietly. The name always brought a twinge of sadness with it.

She thought she almost saw Xenia smile then, an expression of recollection.

“And who is she to you, exactly?” Xenia asked.

“She’s my mother. I haven’t seen her for many years.”

“Ah. A journey for family reunion, then?”

Kassandra paused, frowning in thought.

“It’s... complicated.”

“Family always is.” Xenia finally spoke with some empathy then.

Kassandra nodded, averting her gaze. She changed the subject, as to not linger.

“Aspasia is the one who sent me.” Xenia gave a slightly annoyed chuckle then, clearly fed up with Aspasia and her advice, which seemed to be a frequent occurrence judging by her reaction.

“Of course she did. Why?”

“She said you might know something.”

“Well, of course. But knowledge is power, misthios, and I do not intend to give it away for free.”

 _There it is,_ Kassandra thought. She sighed, and prayed that Xenia was not as hungry for drachmae as most pirates were.

“How much?” 

She was relieved when Xenia’s price wasn’t one to wipe her out completely, although it was not far off. She took what she had on her belt and handed it over.

“Pleasure doing business with you.” Xenia spoke with a smirk on her face as she accepted the payment, an expression that could only come from someone who lived and breathed for coin.

“So what do you know?”

Xenia moved to lean back against the railing of the outlook before she began. The drachmae seemed to have attributed a temporary benevolence to her. 

“Your mother was a member of my crew, once. She left not too long ago.”

“You knew her?” She wondered what could have drawn her mother to someone like Xenia.

“Yes. An amazing woman - waste of a good pirate, however.”

_Of course she was a good pirate._

“Now, she sails under the name ‘Phoenix’."

 _Phoenix._ The implications of that made her hopeful that Myrrine was coping, at the least, wherever she was. Just to know that was a weight lifted off her chest. 

“Do you know where she is?” she asked.

Xenia paused a moment to think.

“She sailed southeast on her ship, 'Siren Song'. Last I heard, it was docked at Naxos.” 

Her heart skipped. Naxos wasn't far. She felt an excitement rise within her, but suppressed it as she caught herself getting her hopes up. Doing that had never ended well in the past, and so she had taught herself to try and remain indifferent. It would still hurt, but having hope crushed was agonizing, and she could not bear to feel that type of suffering again.

“I think I have what I need. Thank you.” 

With a small nod, she turned to leave, but stopped when Xenia spoke again. 

“Remember, misthios - home isn't a place, it's the people you're with. If you don't find what you're looking for, I’m sure there's a place for you here.”

She nodded again in gratitude, but turned and walked away, knowing she would not return. 

-

Later, as Barnabas sailed towards Naxos above deck, Kassandra lay alone in her bunk. The faint glow of a candle, the only thing standing in the way of darkness. With time, she had grown used to the rocking that came with the sea. It was even comforting at times, a sway that lulled her to sleep on the rare occasion she had the opportunity for rest. But now, even with the sea gentle as ever, she lay wide awake. She decided then to dwell on memories she was trying to forget, in the hope that it would help.

_“Kassandra?”_

_Following the call, she found Kyra in the darkness of the night, wearing a grin that resolved every tension within her, every anxiety in its beauty. But it made her shiver, because it was meant for her, and no one else._

_“Kyra.”_

_She made her way over to where Kyra leaned against the stone, elbows propped up to look out at the city. She took a place next to her._

_“It’s good to see you,” Kyra spoke calmly, genuinely. She continued to peer out at the city, studying it in awe as if viewing it for the first time. She held a soft, natural smile on her face._

_“You too.” she gazed with the same admiration, but not at the city. “What are you doing out here so late?” she asked. Kyra chuckled, a sound that took the chill out of the air._

_“I could ask the same of you.” Kyra looked at her, eyes shining even in darkness, and words were taken from her mouth._

_“I…”_

_“Were you looking for me?”_

_“No.” Kyra smiled, and it was all it took for her to yield._

_“...Maybe.” Kyra gave another soft laugh, and looked back out._

_Some silence passed, but it was comfortable. It didn’t feel empty, as if there were still questions and answers passed between them, without words._

_“What are you thinking about?” Kassandra asked._

_“Not the rebellion, I’ll say that much.”_

_“Does that include me?”_

_“Well… Have you been fighting for our cause, Kassandra?”_

_"I would like to think so."_

_“Then yes, that does include you.” She paused. “So... I suppose I_ was _thinking about the rebellion, in that case.”_

_“Is that so?” Kyra looked at her with seriousness before her smile broke through again. She averted her gaze back to the distance. Kassandra studied Kyra’s eyes, which were far away again._

_“I don’t want you to regret last night.”_

_Kyra looked at her. There was no judgement, only understanding._

_“Is that what you think?”_

_“...I don’t know.” she said, the most innocent naivety plastered on her expression._

_Kyra moved to stand, facing Kassandra. Holding that same gentle smile, she whispered._

_“Oh, misthios,” she reached up, fitting her hands on Kassandra’s cheeks like they were meant to be only there, and nowhere else. “You have no idea.”_

It didn't help. She began to realize with great frustration that she would find no rest in the immediate future, not until she was home. Until then, every memory brought a sadness with it. As she wiped the wetness off her cheeks, the ship swayed again. The flame went out, and she was left in darkness again.


	6. Chapter 6

_They walked beside one another along the grass, each with a bow ready. At first, their heads had constantly spun and turned, but in only minutes the hunt was paid no mind except for when the animals danced in their direct line of sight. An ibex was unfortunate and oblivious enough to do so, and Kyra hit it right between the eyes in a flash. Kassandra raised her eyebrows, impressed._

_“If I didn’t know any better, I’d think you were a Daughter.” she said. Kyra laughed at that._

_“I can assure you, I am not.”_

_“Artemis, then.”_

_She rolled her eyes, but when she saw the smile on Kassandra’s face she couldn’t fight back one of her own._

_Some comfortable silence passed, with merely the shifting of grass as they walked, before a squawk came from the sky. Kassandra stopped and turned swiftly, bow ready at an ibex far behind her. Lining up her shot, she fired, missing narrowly. With a grumble, she turned and resumed walking. There was another squawk._

_“Oh, shut it.” she muttered in annoyance._

_Kyra chuckled, amused by their secret conversation. There was something so pure and heartfelt about it, about how Kassandra would talk to the sky and elaborate no further, because she seemed to forget that such a thing was not exactly common._

_“Tell me about him,” Kyra said, with a motion to the sky._

_“Who? Ikaros?” She nodded._

_“Was he…” she trailed off, not sure how to phrase the question._

_“Given to me?”_

_“I suppose so, yes.”_

_“I think so.”_

_“You don’t know?”_

_“Well, he started following me around when I was small, and he hasn’t left.”_

_“You seem to have something quite special with him.”_

_Kassandra gave a warm smile, peering up to the sky where Ikaros was gliding with outstretched wings, drawing circles above them._

_“You could say that," she said, knowing far more than she was letting on._

_Ikaros squawked again, and Kassandra swerved around. She didn't miss this time._

_“Excellent shot,” Kyra said, a smile that Kassandra returned._

_“Will that be enough?” she asked, lowering her bow._

_Kyra became saddened at the realisation that the hunt was over. The time she had to spend with Kassandra was running out all too soon._

_“...Yes.” she said reluctantly._

_She looked out at the sea for a moment, not far from where they stood. The day was almost at its end, a pink-orange glow resting above the horizon as it cut the sun in half, colours spilling onto the water in reflections. She turned to Kassandra._

_“Will you walk with me?”_

_Kassandra looked at her with something like relief. She accepted without hesitation, with soft words._

_“Of course.”_

_They slung their bows over their shoulders, and moved to the shore, following along the water’s edge. Eventually, finding a spot where the grass met the sand, they sat down beside each other, and Kyra finally spoke._

_“I wanted to thank you.” she said._

_“What for?”_

_“For telling me about him, like you did. The rebels would have taken it badly.”_

_“It was the least I could do.”_

_“Many would not have the decency. Nonetheless… Thank you.”_

_Kassandra gave a nod. She hesitated, stumbling over how to ask her the right way._

_“How have you been?”_

_Kyra didn’t quite know how to answer that._

_“I’ve been trying not to think about it too much,” she said - the truth, but far from all of it._

_Kassandra looked at her, concerned. From a glance at her eyes, Kyra could see she knew she was holding something back. Of course she could tell - she was a fool to think she wouldn't._

_“...You’re allowed to talk about him.”_

_She knew that. She always knew that she could ramble for hours, and Kassandra wouldn’t just listen, but she would hear every word. She knew that there would be no judgement, no criticism, that she would give her only genuine empathy. That’s just who she was, and it was one of the reasons Kyra had fallen so far. But she found she couldn't._

_“I know. I just… I don’t know what to do.”_

_Kassandra nodded. She gave a deep breath before speaking, her voice much softer, more vulnerable._

_“My father tried to kill me, when I was little.”_

_Kyra darted her eyes to Kassandra’s, her sudden confession catching her off guard. She shivered at the pain she saw there, one Kassandra tried to hide - but she saw right through._

_“I found him again, not so long ago,” she continued, “and I had him, right there. I was going to kill him, but… I couldn’t do it.”_

_Kassandra sighed, fidgeting with hands that Kyra wished she could hold in hers, to calm her._

_“It wouldn’t have changed anything. I would live with anger either way. And I think that is the worst thing he did. Not when he tried to kill me. But when he forced me into a lifetime of hatred, of rage. It is a stain on my existence, and I don’t think it will go away. But I have learned to accept it, for the most part.”_

_Kyra swallowed the lump in her throat, not knowing what to say. It hurt her immensely to know Kassandra had lived a life so similar to her own, because it made her realise how much pain had come to her. Her own life had brought so much tragedy, so much suffering, and hearing that Kassandra had gone through so much as well - it inflicted such a sadness, to see someone so strong, so resilient be haunted by such a terrible thing._

_Kassandra’s tone changed after a pause, more gentle, as she looked at Kyra._

_“I don’t know how different your situation is, but… Regardless of what happens with Podarkes, if you’re even somewhat as strong as I’ve seen you be - you’ll be okay.”_

_Kassandra’s words, the affection with which she spoke, the softness in her eyes - it was all too much. Kyra broke her gaze, bit her tongue, for she knew she would crumble if she delved any longer. She could practically hear the gods laughing at her, as they told her just how much she would lose in the days to come._

_“Not to mention,” Kassandra went on, “you have a whole family behind you. Even when this is all said and done.”_

_“...You’re right,” she said with a sigh. “I just - I just wish it could have been different.”_

_Kassandra nodded, and spoke with remorse, with the expression of someone who felt the exact same way._

_“I know.”_

_Her voice weak as she was, Kyra spoke._

_“Sometimes, I wonder what I did to dishonour the gods so terribly. And sometimes, I think - what more could they possibly take from me? But they always find something. Or they give it to me, something too good to be true, and it always is.”_

_“The gods are wicked.”_

_They looked at each other, sombre in the knowledge that another good thing would be crushed, all too soon. Kyra took a deep breath to gather as much of herself as she could, and asked Kassandra what she had been longing to know for days. Or more, what she had longed to hear her say._

_“Why did you stay, Kassandra?”_

_“To help you.”_

_“We haven’t even paid you yet.”_

_Kassandra averted her gaze, hesitating before she spoke._

_“...I forgot about the drachmae long ago, Kyra.”_

_“But you’re a mercenary.”_

_“Sure.”_

_“So why did you stay?”_

_Kassandra looked at her once again, solemn._

_“I think you know why.”_

_Kyra’s breath caught in her throat. She knew that was what she would say. She knew all along, and yet hearing it was so overwhelming. Rising to her feet, she walked a short distance to the edge of the water. She folded her arms, feeling the pounding of her heart as it continued to break with every breath. Kassandra soon appeared next to her, keeping some distance with the fear that she had said too much._

_“You made this so hard.” Kyra whispered, looking out with distant eyes at the sunset. Kassandra didn’t know how to answer that, as a tense silence lingered._

_That was harsh, Kyra realised immediately. This was not Kassandra’s fault, not anybodys. She knew this was all doomed from the start, but she didn’t pay it any mind. She chose to dive into this willingly, because the end of it all seemed so far away then. She spoke again._

_“This will not end well either way. But I am trying to accept that. I will let the fates come when they may, cruel as they are.” she paused, taking a breath. “But until then… I know what I want.”_

_“Kyra…”_

_She turned to Kassandra, stepping up to stand close to her._

_“There’s a spot down by the water. It's quiet. We'd be alone. What do you say?”_

_There was a terrifying moment of silence, before Kassandra reached out her open hand._

_“Show me.”_

_Taking her hand, she found warmth and comfort like Kassandra held it in her palm, in fingers that locked perfectly with her own. She swore not to part from her. She would not leave until the fates came upon them and pried them apart with their own cold hands._

-

Kyra forced her eyes open again, still wide awake, as she had been for most of the night - except now, the sun had risen, and another day was on the horizon. Sleeping in a bed was so incredibly foreign to her - despite its comfort, she had not found much sleep in it. 

As if by instinct, her eyes immediately settled on what had provoked her to remember that night - her bow, against the wall. Everything was a reminder of her, each its own separate memory ensuring they would never die. She looked at the empty wine jar on the table, and as that night rushed over her, a familiar heartache reared its ugly head again.

-

_It was peacefully quiet then. The air was still, only the sounds of light waves weaving around their voices naturally. A small fire radiated light and warmth between them, swaying ever so slightly. There was a jar of wine on the sand which had gone empty long ago, the only honourable quality of the Athenians coming and going in a fleeting moment._

_“Sokrates isn’t so bad,” Kassandra continued, finally redeeming the philosopher after her slander in the way only a friend could. “You just need to know how to handle him.”_

_“Is that what this is? You know how to handle me?” Kyra asked, half-joking but genuinely curious._

_For a moment, Kassandra looked at her with worry, before peering down into the empty cup in her hands._

_“...I could only hope to do that,” she said quietly. She put the cup down and looked back at her. “I don’t think anyone could handle you, Kyra.”_

_She raised her eyebrows. Is that not what she had done? From the moment they had met she was blasé about everything. Spears at her throat, surrounded, and she didn’t flinch. She had the respect to tell her about Podarkes in private. Kyra had almost taken her anger out on her then in a moment of emotion - and she had a feeling that she would have taken it willingly if she did. But the more she looked back at the past few days, the more she began to see why Kassandra thought the way she did._

_She thought of how, on the ride together to Delos’ treasury, she could feel Kassandra’s heartbeat with her back pressed against her, a thumping that made her comfortable about the racing of her own. She felt how fast it beat, as if she had run up and down mountains, when she barely caught a sweat fighting off hordes of Athenians. She saw how she reacted to her touch, a tension that softened as she relaxed. It all stood out to her, because it was a mirror image of herself - she felt the same way, reacted the same way towards Kassandra. She longed to tell her of how she was set ablaze when her eyes met hers. Of how she sunk into a puddle on the ground when she smiled, at no one else but her. Of the lengths she would go to for that woman that she only met days ago. But her thoughts lodged in her throat every time they rose, forced back to wreak havoc in her mind._

_“Even you? The mighty eagle bearer?”_

_“Maybe, but… that’s not who I am.” Kassandra looked down again._

_“How so?”_

_“The eagle bearer isn’t real, it’s… a show, a mask.” she paused, meeting Kyra’s eyes with seriousness. “Is that how you see me? As a stranger would?”_

_“No.”_

_“Then say my name.”_

_A flame sparked within her then, despite the chill that rushed over her. Her mouth went dry, and she struggled to find her voice. She found herself being pulled to her, falling into her eyes, darker now but so inviting. Her mind raced, even considering taking her right then - but she found she couldn’t move._

_“Kassandra,” she whispered, more a breath than a word._

_“That is who I am. Just a mercenary.”_

_“I would disagree.” she almost scoffed. Kassandra was might personified, if not more. She had seen it first hand._

_“I may be good with a sword, but-”_

_“Some say you’re a demigod-”_

_“And yet you never fail to make me weak.”_

_That made her shiver, made her heart sink into her stomach. She didn’t know what to say, or more, she didn’t know how to say that she had broken down her own defenses in the same way. That she was falling for her right now, deeper with every word she said, every look. Kyra was completely defenseless, just as she was._

_“Out of all the people I’ve met... You’re the only one who does that.” Kassandra continued, speaking and looking at her with softness. “So, no. I don’t think I know how to handle you, Kyra.”_

I wish you would, _she thought._

_“Is that a good thing?” she asked. Kassandra hesitated, a look of apprehension on her face._

_“...I don’t want to step out of line.”_

_“I’m asking you to,” she reassured her. “I want you, Kassandra. Now, under the stars.”_

_Kassandra didn’t say a word, but she answered her, closing the gap between them with a deep kiss that spoke of everything unsaid. The jar they had emptied earlier had little effect, but tasting the wine on her lips made her drunk. Kyra pushed her onto her back, and as she moved to straddle her, she heard her breathe out her name._

_“Kyra…” she couldn’t stop a gasp from escaping her mouth at the sound of her name, so delicate from her mouth, as if it was only meant to be spoken by her._

_Kassandra’s eyes, shades of gold sparkling in moonlight, searched up and down as her hands followed, provoking quivering breaths from Kyra at her touch. She felt Kassandra’s lips come to her neck, and she rooted her fingers in her hair to stop herself from caving in too soon. She shuddered as Kassandra whispered, lips brushing against her skin._

_“I’ve wanted you for so long…”_

_She let out shaky breaths and gasps. It was surreal, this moment - she had expected the exhilaration, the fire in her stomach. But she hadn’t expected the overwhelming affection which made her tremble, made a lump rise in her throat at the thought of the night’s end. The woman that she had spent days and nights thinking of was hers tonight, only hers. And she would let herself be swept away by her. She would let herself be pulled into blind darkness, because it was in her grasp._

_Parting just enough to look at her, she held her face in her hands. Kassandra looked up at her, mesmerised, with a gaze so fragile. A fear hidden in where they glimmered, of the moment they would part._

_“Then take me,” Kyra breathed, and she was washed away with the waves._

-

She stood by the window, the one overlooking the shores. A breeze came in through carrying salt and the sea, the ghost of wine with it, a fabricated smell. As she looked out, she found disappointment, one that she knew would come. Despite the part of her that stayed grounded in cruel reality, there was a hopeful part that died a little more every time she looked out at the docks, only to find them empty again. She almost pitied herself. Just over in the house neighbouring hers, Praxos and the rest of the leadership would be busy working, planning, reuilding; and yet here she was, sulking and wallowing in her own misery. 

She knew that the rebels had expected her to lead after Podarkes was defeated. But there was no great part of her that had ever wanted to take up the position of archon. She was still involved, of course - and many still saw her as the true leader regardless. But she was perfectly content with just knowing Mykonos was in good hands. After all, the reason for the rebellion - in her mind, at least - was not to come to power, but to crush Podarkes and his regime. Her passion stopped there. All she wanted, all she had ever wanted, was peace. She had only gotten caught up into a life of war and constant fighting because it was the only way to achieve it, and now that she finally had some sense of it, she just wanted to live a life free from fear, from stress. But now, even with the rebellion won, she still could not find peace. 

Later, as she walked through the city, between bustling markets and strings of white houses, she found some sense of happiness come to her. Ever since Podarkes had been removed from power, she had noticed a gradual shift in the people of Mykonos. Not long ago, there had only ever been fear plastered on the face of every soul, in hushed whispers and eyes that never stopped darting to every corner. No longer was there only an anxious, quiet chatter to hang in the air - people talked without considering every word, and people laughed. Kyra would see actual joy, actual happiness instead of apprehension and misery. There were scattered greetings and thanks spoken to her, in the place of what used to be simple nods and averted gazes.

To know that the people were finally free, finally happy, brought her some joy - a feeling so foreign to her, but so welcome. But with the shores in the distance, she made the mistake of checking one last time, for that brilliant red sail which would fly in the wind atop its hull, which would not be there. Fleeting joy was replaced by a sadness that she brought on herself, and she turned away in a hopeless effort to stop it from growing stronger.


	7. Chapter 7

“I fear you’ll break the rail if you grip it any tighter, captain.”

Looking down, she realised he was right. Her knuckles, a pure white, holding on for life itself. She hadn’t even noticed - only then did she become aware of an aching in her hands. She let go. 

“Are you nervous?” he asked, a question he already knew the answer to.

“A bit,” she spoke quietly, peering down at her feet so he couldn’t see what she thought was a sign of weakness.

At her reply, Barnabas gave a booming laugh.

“Ha, please! Your heartbeat is as loud as the sea itself!”

She sighed.

“I… I’m scared, Barnabas.”

“You have nothing to be scared of,” he said, a new softness in his voice. 

“What if she’s not who I remember?” she paused, and thought. “What if I’m not who _she_ remembers?”

“She is your mother. She will love you, just as she always has.”

Seeing the uncertainty linger in her eyes, he continued on.

“You are the bravest person I know, Kassandra. The bravest that many have known, I’m sure.” He paused for a moment, and smiled, putting a gentle hand on her shoulder.

“If you were my own - I would be _so proud_.” 

She gave a small smile then, one that was weak but genuine. She held a great appreciation for Barnabas; he would never take credit for it, but he was the reason she had gotten so far. Not just because of the Adrestia, but because he had provided the support she didn’t know she needed.

“...What do I even say?” 

“The right words will come to you in the moment.”

She looked at him, unsure.

“It does not matter what you say, Kassandra. Your being there will speak for itself.” 

Although still apprehensive, she gave a nod. She knew he was right, but there was a part of her that was nervous - scared, even - and she didn’t know why.

-

Standing in the doorway before the balcony, she found herself frozen in place. There, at the edge, was her mother - turned away, unaware that her daughter was behind her. The sweet hums that had once lulled her to sleep as a child were carried across the air, and she was in tears already. 

There was a lingering thought, a lingering dread, that she would turn and she would not recognise her mother. That if she were to say her name, she would not respond, for she had died long ago. Even with her standing across from her, humming mindlessly with a voice that was no stranger, she still could not come to terms with the fact that she was alive. 

Willing herself to step forward, she unsheathed her spear, the sound of sliding metal drawing Myrrine’s attention. She turned. Her eyes settled on the spear Kassandra held out in front of her, the same one she gave her as a child, a burden and a blessing. They turned up to her daughter, reflecting not only in amber but in emotion.

“...Kassandra?” she whispered, so faint, like the name would break if she spoke any louder.

Kassandra nodded as she sheathed her spear. For a moment, Myrrine seemed to forget how to move, how to breathe - but then, as tears began to fall, the life came back to her eyes. 

_“How?”_

Rushing forward, Myrrine took her into an embrace. It had been so many years, and yet being in her mother’s arms was so familiar. Her grasp had the same warmth, the same comfort. It gave her the same feelings of safety. The only difference was that now it was tighter, more secure, to ensure that even the fates would struggle to tear them apart again.

“I thought I had lost you,” she whispered.

Kassandra found she could not wait to tell her any longer. 

“Alexios is alive.”

As she felt Myrrine’s grip weaken, pulling away from her all too soon, a wave of dread swept over her. Myrrine looked at her with the same feeling.

“They have him… Don’t they?”

She didn’t have to answer for her to know. 

“We must get him back.”

“He’s too far gone…” It hurt her to say it, and it showed as she struggled to say the words without them breaking.

“I lost you both once - _never again_.”

There would be no changing her mind, she saw. But the same went for herself; she had lost her brother once already, and she could barely stomach the thought of it happening again. If it did, she would lose herself - she would not survive the fall again.

Myrrine seemed to be swept back up again, stammering through tears as she took Kassandra’s hands in her own, as if to make sure she was real. 

“It’s really you,” she sobbed. “It’s not some trick of the gods.”

“No-” she choked out. “I found you.”

Myrrine took her back into her arms, and she cried into her shoulder, muffling her words. 

“I… I missed you so much, mater.”

“Oh, Kassandra… I missed you too. _Every day._ ”

Taking a step back, she placed her hands on her arms.

“Look at you.” she smiled, and moved her hands to her cheeks. She told her what she never got the chance to. “I am so proud of you, my lamb.”

“I have so much to ask you- so much to tell you.”

“And I want to hear everything. Come,” she motioned for her to follow. 

It was only some time later, as they sat on the sand, that Myrrine realised just how far her daughter had come - and it showed. She possessed the same bravery, the same confidence, but beneath it all she saw a mirror image - something far too painful.

“You have grown into an amazing woman,” she said, looking at her proud. “But I see the burden you carry on your shoulders.”

“Finding you has lessened it.”

“As it has for me. But, you remind me of myself.” her expression was sorrowful, and Kassandra frowned.

“How so?” she asked, and Myrrine looked at her with sadness, before speaking honestly. 

“You look tired.”

It was no surprise that Myrrine could tell. Despite the efforts Kassandra went to to hide her tiredness in front of others, they were rendered useless in front of her. Usually she would pretend so often that she could fool herself - but hearing it now made her realise just how exhausted she really was. She became aware of just how heavy her eyes were, of how all of her ached - of how she longed to sleep with an empty head. 

“Well… I suppose I am.”

“I can see that you have lived a life of struggle. You have suffered so young. It pains me to see that.”

Seeing the look on her mother’s face, she found herself back on Mount Taygetos; she saw the same pain that was evident in her then. Myrrine hadn’t forgotten about that night any more than her, she realised. Just as Kassandra, she may have survived, but a part of her died that night - and every day, there was still an abundance of grief. 

Kassandra did not speak, and her worry deepened.

“...What else has hurt you, lamb?”

She didn’t know where to start. Even just since she left Kephallonia, there had been so much. Nikolaos, the Cult, Deimos - and, of course, Kyra. What she thought about most, despite everything else - always on her mind, no matter what.

“I’m scared for Alexios. You should have seen him, mater, he- he…” she found she couldn’t finish.

Myrrine took her hand in her own, letting her take her time in finding the words.

“I failed to save him once already… What if he is beyond saving?”

“You must not give up on him, Kassandra. Never.” Myrrine looked at her with strong certainty, one she could see could not be wavered, and so she nodded.

The doubt did not lie in Kassandra - she knew that herself. It was written in stone all those years ago that she would not give up on him, and it was cemented when she saw him in Phokis. Rather, it was Alexios. There would be nights where she could not sleep because all she could think about was the possibility that he really did die that night. That it was only Deimos, and there was no one left to save. 

“We will bring him home, do you hear me? We _will_ be a family again.” she spoke with a firmness in her voice, one that spread to her hands’ grasp.

“I know.”

They wordlessly came to an agreement then, a vow to bring him back. Neither of them could even consider losing him again, and so they chose to turn a blind eye to the possibility. They decided it was inevitable that he would come home so that it would hurt less in the moment, only to forget that it would destroy them if they were wrong - more so than if they were realistic.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry, I know this one took a while - I found it hard to write this chapter, so I'm sorry if it flows strangely. Hope you enjoyed nonetheless!


	8. Chapter 8

When Myrrine first suggested that they return to Sparta, to go to Mount Taygetos, she had thought that she was joking. Not only did it seem absurd, it seemed pointless. But the more she thought, the more she began to understand why. Myrrine wanted closure. She wanted to face her fears. And as she came to understand that, she also came to realise that she needed it too. That they could not save Alexios from darkness if they were still in the midst of it. 

And so, they planned to return to the place where they had lost everything, to begin to heal. Together. They talked for hours as they rode throughout the island against eventual sunset, their horses slowed to a pace where it likely would have been faster on foot. It was the low hum of chatter, the delicate beauty of the place that reminded her of Mykonos - and she realised she had not yet told Myrrine.

“I only have a few more things to do here,” Myrrine said, “Then - we may go.”

“I might actually meet you there, mater. There is somewhere I need to go first.”

“Of course, lamb. Where?”

“Mykonos.”

“The Silver Islands? What is waiting for you there?”

“I need to see someone.”

Myrrine raised an eyebrow at her vagueness. “And who would that someone be?”

“They- she-” she took a deep breath to find the words. “She means a lot to me.”

A soft smile naturally formed on Myrrine’s lips.

“Well… That is as good a reason as any.”

She was relieved that she would not need to explain such a complicated thing. But, at the same time, she had a feeling that Myrrine could already guess the full story with the way she looked at her.

“It is comforting to hear that you have found people,” Myrrine continued. “Part of me worried that you had shut yourself off, as I did.”

She worried about what that meant.

“You did?”

“Yes. I trusted very few, I never told the full truth of myself. I never became close with anyone.” she spoke with her eyes on the road.

“But you survived.”

“Only just, I’m afraid.” 

Kassandra frowned. There was a unique twinge of pain that came with the thought of her mother’s suffering - especially with how strong she knew her to be.

“Why do you say that?”

Myrrine answered her question with another. “Do you know why I never let anyone in?”

“Tell me.”

“I was afraid of losing them. I thought that, if I never got close, I would have no one to lose.”

She had always wondered how her mother had coped. To hear that, she felt like a fool to never have realised that Myrrine would have survived the exact same way as herself. She had always been so much like her mother, and in grief that did not change.

“I felt the same way.”

Myrrine looked at her, brow furrowed with worry. “Do you still?”

“Yes. But I often find that I don’t have the strength to act the same way.”

“That is not a sign of weakness, Kassandra. If anything, it is a sign of courage.”

While she appreciated her words, she struggled to see it in such a way. With her eyes in the distance, Myrrine sensed that she did not believe her, so she continued.

“What _I_ did not realise is that, in many ways, having no one is worse. It can be… debilitating.”

“How can it be worse?” she asked, her disbelief evident in her tone.

“Well… Wouldn’t you agree it is better to have the memory of someone than to not have known them at all?”

There was a moment of silence as she considered the idea. To her own surprise, she found herself coming to understand what Myrrine meant. 

“I suppose I hadn’t thought about it like that.”

There was the slightest glimmer of hope in her eyes when Myrrine looked at her.

“I hope you do.”

-

_Kyra was pacing amongst the lookout below the temple when Kassandra found her, exactly where she expected her to be._

_“Kyra,” she said as she approached, “I wanted to see how you were-”_

_“Not here.” Kyra interrupted her. “Please, would you walk back with me?”_

_The area was almost deserted, so she wondered why she was hesitant to talk - but her eyes promised an explanation, so she trusted her._

_“...Sure.”_

_Kyra gave her a nod, and motioned for Kassandra to follow as she walked._

_“Thank you. I just-” she lowered her voice. “I don’t trust anyone on these streets. Especially not now.”_

_“I understand.”_

_They walked in silence. Kassandra watched her, worried, noticing that she was more tense than usual. Her eyes seemed to dart everywhere, and her features were hardened in a way that she had never seen._

_When they reached the entrance of the cave not long after, Kyra seemed to relax, but only in the way she spoke and in how her posture lost its edge. There was still a hidden tension in her that she could sense._

_“Thank you for understanding,” she said, appreciatively._

_“Of course.”_

_Kyra continued towards the back of the cave, and she followed behind her._

_“He may be dead,” Kyra continued, “but Sparta hasn’t taken hold just yet.”_

_The way she glossed over her father’s death, like an insignificant detail, made her worry. But she chose not to pry._

_With strings of sunken stones in water guiding their path, they made their way into the space Kyra had to herself, away from the others. It was unusually quiet, the echoing of dripping water and flickering flames becoming noticeable in the absence of chatter. She noticed the dolls amongst clutter on the desk. They were hidden, but there nonetheless - she wondered what that meant._

_Kassandra broke the silence. “When will Sparta push forward?”_

_“Tomorrow. It is a battle they cannot lose - it would take_ two _miracles for that to happen.”_

_The end seemed to be near. Despite how great that was, it was sooner than she expected - and sooner than Kyra expected, from what she could tell._

_“And what happens then?”_

_Kyra fidgeted with her hands for a moment, before she sat down on the bench across from Kassandra. She took a breath, and spoke._

_“The rebellion is won.” Her tone contradicted the victory._

_“How do you feel?”_

_Kyra’s demeanor changed then, as she appeared to finally relax, but tension was merely replaced with sorrow. Kassandra didn’t know which was worse._

_“I used to feel vengeful. Now… empty.” she paused for a moment, trying to gather her emotions. “All my life, this is all I’ve known. It has been my only cause, my only purpose. And soon, it will be gone.”_

_“You should be glad. You fulfilled that purpose, but now you have a new one.”_

_Kyra frowned, curious, as she looked up at her. “And what is that?”_

_“...Why did you start this rebellion, Kyra?”_

_“Freedom. Peace.”_

_“Podarkes and Athens were the ones standing in the way of that, and you have crushed them. Now… You give it to these islands. Not just to the people, but to yourself. You deserve that.”_

_With a deep breath, Kyra seemed to accept that. “...You’re right. Thank you.”_

_Kassandra nodded. Kyra began to look at her inquisitively before she asked her. “What about you?”_

_“What about me?”_

_“What is your cause?”_

_Kassandra thought for a moment._

_“I’m looking for my mother,” she said, matter-of-factly._

_“Your mother? How did you lose her?”_

_Thoughts of that night were sparked then, of her mother’s cries, and she felt a pit in her stomach. She had spoken with many about her mother in her search to find her, and in those times it had not evoked such grief. But with Kyra, it wasn’t business, nor were they acting off of ulterior motives. It was personal, vulnerable - Kyra had a way of intensifying everything she felt. She began to understand why she spoke little of Podarkes._

_“We were separated when I was young,” she said, her voice quieting as she lingered on the memory. “I thought she was dead… Until recently.”_

_Kyra sensed that she was being vague for a reason, so she left it at that._

_“You’ll find her.” she spoke confidently, with a comforting reassurance, and Kassandra could see that she truly believed it._

_“You think so?”_

_“I know.”_

_She raised her eyebrows. “How?”_

_“Because I know_ you. _I know what you’re like. You always finish what you start.”_

_With the way Kyra sat there, oblivious to the weight of what she said, Kassandra didn’t know how to respond. To every other woman she had been with she had been a stranger. But Kyra knew her, and there was something about that that was so much more intimate, more frightening, than the night they had spent with no space between them. She almost wanted her to be wrong._

_“_ Do you _know me?” she asked, skeptical._

_Kyra merely shrugged._

_“You tell me,” she said, rising from the bench calmly, her hands clasped in front of her. “Is there a part of you you haven’t shown me? Have I seen all of you?”_

_There was something about her voice that was dangerous. Something in her eyes that made her shiver. She swallowed._

_“You’ve seen more than most people who know me.”_

_In the way that Kyra moved, in the way she spoke, it was as if another dagger had been thrown past her eyes again. She had fallen for her the moment she saw her, and Kyra knew that. She knew just what that tone, that glare did to her._

_Kyra slowly stepped towards her as she spoke. “Does that…” There was a break in her words as her eyes darkened, fixed on her lips. “...Scare you?”_

_Gods, if looks could kill, she would be halfway across the River Styx by now. Instinctively, she backed up as Kyra approached - but with only two steps she felt the cave wall on her back._

_She finally mustered a lie as her last line of defense._

_“No.”_

_Kyra’s eyes darted back to hers, and when she whispered, she felt the breath from her lips on her own._

_“You’re lying.”_

_She broke._

_“It’s terrifying,” she murmured, so quiet it could only be heard by the woman inches from her lips._

_“Do you trust me?” Kyra asked, placing her hands on her chest._

_“I do.”_

_Kyra’s eyes moved back down again. There was a growing hunger in her breathing, becoming shaky and rapid as her fingers curled to grasp the red fabric on Kassandra’s chest._

_“Kyra…” she whispered._

_But Kyra wasn’t listening. She inhaled sharply, and tugged on the fabric to take her - but Kassandra took hold of her by the waist and sharply spun her around so she was pressed against the wall, evoking a gasp._

_There was a moment when Kyra resisted, pushing against her chest - but her hands, white knuckles still holding on tightly, told Kassandra to stay, to wait for her. Kyra seemed to be at her last line too, as she tried to slow her breathing. It was as if she was giving herself one last chance to back out, but she was in too deep - both of them were. And they both knew it._

_Kyra closed her eyes briefly as she took a deep breath. When she opened them, there was a shift. The gaze that Kassandra had tried to resist for so long finally captured her. Even as the one pinned against the wall, Kyra became the one who held the upper hand. And Kassandra would not dare fight it._

_-_

_It was not until some time later that words were spoken. Kyra sat on the bench with her head rested back on the wall, her breathing only just beginning to slow. Kassandra knelt between her legs, which still continued to tremble ever so slightly, holding her with hands splayed at the small of her back. She felt the nails dug into her back and the base of her neck finally ease, and she raised her head up from her sex to place a kiss on her stomach._

_“I want you.” she murmured longingly, her lips against her skin, feeling her shiver._

_Her touch there made Kyra lift her head from where it rested against the wall. She opened her eyes, placed her hands on Kassandra’s head, threading her fingers into her hair._

_“You already have me,” she said, her breathing still heavy._

_“No.” She began to part from her. “I don’t.”_

_“You do-“_

_Kassandra cut her off. “Don’t lie to me.” She looked at her with a glimmer in her eyes, almost pleading, as if she could change the truth._

_Cupping her face, Kyra pulled her up to look at her. “Don’t-“ she began firmly, but she couldn’t stop her voice from breaking. She rested her forehead on hers, squeezing her eyes shut to stop herself from crumbling. Her tone wavered into a whisper. “Don't make this harder than it has to be.”_

_Kassandra faltered. She caught Kyra’s hands, taking them in her own as she looked down at them._

_“I’m scared of losing you, Kyra.”_

_“You won’t,” she whispered. But the strength in her voice was slipping, and Kassandra could hear it._

_“My heart belongs to you,” Kyra said with a squeeze of her hands. “No matter what happens.”_

_Kassandra found she couldn’t meet her eyes, and she couldn’t speak either. Instead, she lay down her head on her chest to be the one held - though for only a moment, for as long as she thought she deserved. In that moment, as Kyra cradled her head, she felt the pounding of her heart against her ear. She hoped that one day it truly would be hers, and it would continue to beat just the same - for if it broke in her hands, she would never be able to forgive herself._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I know there's been a lot of flashbacks so far, but I promise there shouldn't be too many for now on. Thank you for reading, I hope you enjoyed the chapter!


	9. Chapter 9

At the end of the docks, there was a glimmer atop the water - a dance of crystals beneath the clear sky. It was almost cruel, the way the sun came down on Kassandra the same way to turn brown eyes to amber, highlighting and exposing the only visible trace of her doubt like it was pointing fingers. Myrrine would look at her the way she always had, the slightest crease of her brow which gave away her words before they came.

“What’s wrong?” she asked with a warm voice, turning to face her. Kassandra did not, staying open to the water so that she could not see too much of her.

She spent a long silence thinking of an answer, excuses swarming around her head, only for Myrrine to hand it to her with a simplicity that she envied.

“Is it this girl?”

She folded her arms, shrugged. “...More or less.”

“You still haven’t told me just who she is to you.”

Her breath caught for a moment. “It’s hard to say.”

“So, you won’t tell me then?”

“I’m not sure I even know the answer myself.”

Myrrine’s expression softened. “Well, do something for me while you’re there, will you?”

She turned her head to meet her eyes.

_“Find it,”_ Myrrine said, “But don’t take too long.”

She gave a small nod, hoping that perhaps the gods would make it that easy for her.

“Of course.”

Myrrine shifted back to match her daughter’s gaze at the horizon. “When this is all over… You can tell me everything.”

“We’ll see.” Myrrine shook her head with a smile at the slight smirk she wore.

“But first-” Her expression hardened. “We find your brother.”

“Where do we start?”

“I will find what I can in Sparta. I still have influence there, allies.” 

Kassandra looked apprehensive. She certainly wasn’t welcome in Sparta, and she couldn’t see it being any different for her. On Naxos, Myrrine said she could forget about Sparta; _it was as if I had locked Sparta in a box and tossed it to the bottom of the sea,_ she had told her. But Kassandra worried that with it, she had forgotten why she chose to forget in the first place.

“Be careful, mater.” 

Myrrine glanced at her, appreciative but dismissive of her concern. “You know I will.” Kassandra’s eyes lingered on her for longer, worried.

“For all that those bastards tried to take from us,” Myrrine moved on, “and your brother… We will find him.” Determination was furrowed in her brow, a haze over the grief in her eyes.

“I know.”

She saw the tension slowly fade from her face before Myrrine whispered, her gaze lost at sea. “I miss him.”

Her heart clenched. She sighed, closing her eyes for a moment to stop the burning. “Me too.”

The minutes seemed to pass in only seconds, as the grief faded to the back again. The quiet appeared to be as much of a godsend for her mother as it was for her. She would stay for hours more if she could - there was a rare security, being in her presence, where she could let her guard down without worry. 

But she didn’t want to waste time; rather, as her mother did, she would save it for when they had Alexios back. Until then, there was a shade of guilt with every empty minute. It carried over to the journey back to Mykonos, but it was outweighed by the fear of what would happen if she left for too long. 

She turned to Myrrine. “I should set sail.”

Myrrine nodded, a soft smile forming again on her lips. She placed her hands on her cheeks. Naxos seemed to quieten. Her heart was able to rest for a moment.

“Stay safe, lamb.” she gave her shoulders a light squeeze before dropping her arms.

“I will. I’ll see you in Sparta?” 

“I’ll be there.”

“Chaire,” she said, and they went their separate ways.

Back on the Adrestia, she found Barnabas throwing his hands up in disbelief, frantically jabbing a finger in the direction of Myrrine as she walked off. He stammered as Kassandra merely appeared amused by the display.

“Something on your mind, Barnabas?”

“That was your mother!” he exclaimed.

“Yes,” she confirmed, taking her place at the rail of the deck.

“And you didn’t introduce me!” Kassandra couldn’t help but laugh, and he shook his head, placing his hands on his hips. “I’m hurt.”

She gave him a pat on the shoulder. “We’ll get her next time.” 

“Ha! You’d better be right - I _do_ plan to tell her how I lost this eye.”

“And I’m sure she’d love to hear that story. _But,_ we do have more important things to do before then.”

“Yes, of course.” he clapped his hands together in anticipation. “Where do we sail to next?”

“To Mykonos.”

“Mykonos?” he repeated in surprise, frowning. “Correct me if I’m wrong, captain, but I believe the last words spoken to you on that island were _‘leave and never come back’.”_

She shivered. “They were the last words _you_ heard, Barnabas.”

“I see.” he paused briefly in thought. “Kyra won’t have your head for returning, then?”

“No. I would hope not.”

“Hmm. I suppose we’ll find out, won’t we?” he grinned, and she found it to be contagious as always.

He moved to lean on the rail beside her, watching as the crew readied the ship. “How does it feel to have found your mother?” he asked.

“I’ve spent my whole life looking for my home. It feels like... I finally found it.”

Barnabas beamed. “I know what you mean.”

“But, it won’t be ours until we get him back.” 

“And you will,” he added. “But know I’ll always be there.”

“Even if I don’t introduce you?”

“Ha!” he laughed. “Even then, yes. Though I trust you would never do such a thing?”

She chuckled. “I wouldn’t dare.”

Most of the journey was spent in a lull. Not only were the waters relatively still, they were bare. Barnabas took the rare opportunity of calm and quiet to ramble on to those who were closest about things that were probably more absurd _with_ context. Kassandra spent the hours pacing, trying to figure out why she seemed to be getting seasick. There was a twisting in her stomach, a chill on her skin under the sun. Her heart would skip, then lurch hard enough to hurt. She found herself cursing in frustration, because _she didn’t get sick._ The water was so still that the Adrestia seemed to glide, floating just over it, and yet she felt like Poseidon had punched her in the gut. But, as the ship docked at the edge of the island, she came to the gruelling realisation that she wasn’t sick. She was scared shitless, and that was something harder to accept than if she had been sick. 

Kyra scared her, and she didn’t know why. She had longed for her for what felt like a lifetime, but the thought of her dug a pit in her stomach. Part of her expected to be met with what she was afraid of - her, with a smile that didn’t hang right, that quivered at the corners. Eyes that she would struggle to hold for they would hold the full story. But just as much, she expected - perhaps foolishly - to be met as if nothing had ever gone wrong. And there was something so terribly tragic about that which froze her in her tracks, not even one step off the ship. Was it better or worse, she wondered, than if she was broken? 

Her anxiety turned to frustration. It was not a choice she ever wanted to make - she wished to see her in any other way, but she feared that there was no third option. And it made her angry, because that was all she wanted.

Barnabas brought an abrupt halt to the storm in her head with a firm slap on the back. As usual, he seemed to not realise that it took the wind out of her.

“Not an Athenian in sight!” he said cheerfully.

It was something she hadn’t considered - Barnabas was right. The city was rather scattered with Spartan soldiers in their place. There was no longer an unease about the place - just at a glance, the people seemed more open, happier. Though that was more likely due to the absence of the Athenians rather than the presence of the Spartans.

“It _is_ nice to see.” she admitted.

“I wonder who will have taken Podarkes’ place?” he looked at her as if she knew the answer.

Truth be told, she hadn’t really considered it herself - but her first instinct was to believe that Kyra had taken the role. With what happened, however - she wasn’t sure. 

She shrugged. “I wouldn’t know.” But his eyes lingered on her for a moment longer, saying much more than he did.

Clearing her throat, she turned to face the city. It was time to move on. She was nothing close to ready, but so be it. 

“I shouldn’t be more than a few days.”

Barnabas seemed to fail in stifling a laugh. “Ha! We’ll see.”

She shot him a stern look over her shoulder. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

Another laugh caught in his throat. “Oh, nothing - nothing at all.” He moved on quickly. “We’ll all be here for when you wish to depart - whenever that may be.”

With nowhere near enough energy or patience to interrogate him, she chose to just ignore it.

“...Thank you, Barnabas.”

-

Kyra had been mid-conversation with Damasos when Praxos interrupted her. The call of attention had gotten on her nerves before she knew what it was regarding; unlike the past few days, it had been an empty one up to that point, and she did not wish for that to change in a rare time of calm. 

“There’s a misthios here.” 

She gave him a look that said _‘and?’,_ but he didn’t catch on. Praxos never did.

“What do they want?” she asked with a sigh.

“Oh-” he paused before elaborating. “It’s the one with the eagle.”

“Kassandra?”

Stepping around Praxos, she caught a sight outside the entrance. There she was, at the foot of the stairs, standing out even in the same red as the Spartans. The one she was talking to with apparent annoyance, stopping her from entering, was either too dumb or too proud to take a step back. 

The sight of her brought relief. There was a guilt that came with it, but it was a comfort that she had needed desperately. There had been something about the imagination of her, the memory of her while she was gone, that was sad. But there, oblivious from her presence not far from where she stood, Kassandra looked better than when she had last seen her. Even with the altercation, there was less of an edge to her, her shoulders dropping without tension. It suited her.

As she made her way over, and their conversation reached her ears, she remembered how her voice sounded. Only then did she realise how much she had missed it, how it had failed to live up in the echoes she had settled for.

“Dion!” Kyra called.

The Spartan turned his head at his name. “Kyra - would you please tell the misthios to turn her ass around?”

“Let her through.”

Her eyes met Kassandra for just a moment then, and she smiled back at her in a crooked way that wore the only hint of timidity to be seen on the misthios. She felt herself burn from the inside out, a pain that she had missed, though it hurt less then.

“What?” he stammered. “I am not going to just let this- this- _mercenary_ through!”

“Dion,” she spoke low with sudden impatience, curling her fingers into a fist at her side. “I am on my last fucking line with you. You let her through right now or _so help me god,_ I will have you exiled from these islands by my own hand.”

And Kassandra had never looked at her in such a way.

With her glare promising much worse than her threat, he let out a grunt before hesitantly stepping aside.

“Thank you.” Kyra said, any note of appreciation absent.

She took Kassandra’s hand as she passed by him, somewhat lurching her forward to keep up with her pace.

“You amaze me,” she heard her utter behind her. She looked back, and Kassanda’s open mouth turned up into a dazed smile as Kyra paired a smirk with a look that meant so much more.

She led her through the hallways of the complex, up stairs and through doorways until they reached the one room that she knew belonged to no one else, to no other purpose. 

Kassandra found herself pulled close to Kyra the second she had closed the door. Her head was buried in her shoulder, soft breath on her neck. There was a long moment of quiet as Kassandra held her, remembering how she felt in her arms. She noticed how she didn't shiver like before, how she felt whole again. The only soul who had ever scared her in her grasp, and yet she felt so small there. But there was no longer a fear that she would shatter if she held her for too long, or too close. And so she did.

“I missed you.” Kyra murmured finally. 

As her insides stopped twisting for the same reason it began, she sighed, moved her arms to her back to have more of her. She began to realise why she had hurt.

“You have no idea.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As a notice, I want to say that the next chapter might take longer to write (longer than usual, at least) - its a significant one, though maybe more for myself to write than in terms of plot. So I want to take my time (again, at least more than usual). Thank you for reading and for your patience - let me know what you think, I'd love to hear your thoughts/comments :)


	10. Chapter 10

Kyra had parted just enough to look at her, a sparkle of anticipation in her eyes. “Did you…?” 

Kassandra let out a breath she had held for what felt like an eternity. “I did,” she said, and Kyra’s face lit up for her. Her lips moved into a delicate smile, and it made her heart lurch again. 

Kyra held her face in her hands, to look at how light her eyes were in that moment, at how beautiful she appeared. She pulled her back to her, brought her lips to her own, matching a kiss that was deep and slow, drawn out so long to slow the seconds that passed.

Atop a mess of pillows and blankets in the corner, Kassandra had laid her down beneath her, carefully and gradually to not lose her touch for even a second. But Kyra barely gave her an instant before she placed a hand on her chest, pushed her onto her back, swiftly moved to straddle her.

She pulled back, Kassandra searching to meet her again as she sat up. “Wait-” Kyra pushed her down, smiled at how her eyes alone begged to have her back. “Tell me what happened.” 

Kassandra looked up at her, dazed. “I…” she shook her head. “I can’t think.”

“ _Try._ Please.” Kyra whispered, though it was her who had drawn the thoughts from her head. 

And so she did try - she tried to remember, to recall a single detail of her time away; but all she knew was all those empty minutes. The minutes that she had spent thinking of nothing else, no one else but her. And with Kyra above her then, cast dreamlike in the blue light of evening turning to night, she wondered how she expected her to remember anything else.

Stammers were all she could muster. “I… I…” 

Kyra shook her head at her, dark hair falling over the eyes that studied her. As her lips softly drew into a smile, Kassandra’s mouth went dry. No, she could not remember a single thing.

“You’re hopeless, you know that?”

“I know.”

Kyra soon let herself be pushed onto her back, but knowing they would both soon forget, she stopped her with a hand on her chest before the space closed.

“You must tell me later.”

“I will tell you everything. I promise.”

With her promise, Kyra let herself go. The room became darker, quieter as night ensued. By the only window, in the glow that came through along with the breeze, Kyra was the only thing she could see. The only sound, her breathing, and the faintest whimpers and calls that came with it. There was no other way she would have it.

“Kassandra…” Kyra had whispered again, with another exhale. She had fallen silent on everything but her name it seemed.

“I missed you so much, Kyra…” Kassandra murmured to her, slurred with her lips against her skin, feeling her shiver with every word.

“You were all I thought about,” she continued to tell her with a husk in her voice, hands and eyes passing down over her figure.

“Your skin,” her lips dragged over her stomach. “Your taste,” she placed kisses down her skin, and a moan came from Kyra’s lips. “Your voice…” she shifted her gaze upwards, to meet her eyes, but they were shut; she was lost in her mind. 

“You never left me.”

Kyra’s breathing was shaking. 

“You weren’t here, Kassandra,” she whispered, “To touch me- to hold me- I couldn’t sleep.”

If she wasn’t where she was, in that moment she would have taken her in her arms and held her past sunrise. She would have told her how she couldn’t sleep with her there either. But she knew that there would be hours for that later.

“I wouldn’t want to keep you up at night.” Her lips grazed over her thigh, so close to where she wanted her.

“You didn’t.”

“You said that you couldn’t-”

“You were the only thing that brought me rest,” Kyra’s whispers were almost too quiet to hear.

Peering up at her, Kassandra saw someone usually so forward, so confident, hiding behind closed eyes, her lips quivering as she breathed heavy. How had she forgotten this? Forgotten how Kyra came undone on the nights and the sunrises she had been against her?

It was a pure beauty, the way she unfolded, gave herself over. How she would jump willingly into vulnerability, and trust her whole-heartedly to catch her, to guide her through. It was the bravest she had ever seen her. Perhaps it was a mercy that she had forgotten; memories would not have done justice. Rather, they would have driven her mad.

She thought about what Kyra meant by what she just said - and she wondered if it was the same case as her own. How she had thought of her, dreamt of her each night, whether by intent or not. Sometimes it had brought comfort, and sometimes sadness, or guilt. But it had seldom brought sleep on restless nights.

“How so?”

“I… I thought of you, and… and...” she trailed off.

Kassandra felt her stomach twisting again.

“Mmm?” she hummed.

Kyra’s breathing hitched. She shook her head, gave a tired, breathless laugh. “You already know what I mean.”

“I know _exactly_ what you mean,” she husked, “But I want to hear you say it, Kyra.”

“I - I can’t…”

“Show me, then.”

Kyra whimpered again. She finally looked at her, tilting up her head and meeting her with desperate eyes, a different type of intensity than they usually held.

“Please, Kass - I need you.”

The fragile sound of Kyra’s voice reached her heart, as she pleaded for what she had always intended to give her. Kassandra leaned up, kissed her sweetly on her throat, under her jaw, beside her mouth. She rested her forehead on hers, and Kyra threaded her fingers into her hair, holding her tightly.

“I will give you _everything._ I swear,” she whispered against her lips, feeling how they trembled.

She kissed her mouth softly, only for a second. “Show me. Please.”

As she left her, moving back down again, Kyra caught her hand. 

“I promise.” Kassandra lulled, guiding her hand down with her own before she let go. 

There was something blazing about how Kyra lost herself then, her fingers working in darkness, throwing her head back to whimper and moan to the skies with shut eyes. Suddenly the air in the room had gone thin. If only she could have seen how she appeared then, how entrancing she was. She could never describe it.

It was in the passing seconds, as she felt her begin to tremble under her hands, that she came to realise that Kyra had kept her close as she had - and as she watched her, felt her, heard her, there came a fury deep inside her. Everything burned. 

Only lifetimes of offerings could thank Selene for how, on the darkest night, the only light found its way to Kyra, travelling across her skin in a soft line with the quickening rise and fall of her chest, glinting in deep blackness when her eyes finally opened. And when they did, they pleaded before her words did. 

_“Gods,”_ Kyra moaned, and then, just as she neared the edge, she stepped back; her fingers slowed, and then they quivered. “Please,” she whined, “I need you. _Now.”_

Surely she had found an open door to her heart; she could feel it swell. Her voice almost broke her. But she didn’t; she hummed a line of disapproval, curled her fingers around her wrist before she could go any further.

“I’ll tell you when to stop.”

Kyra sighed, shaky, closing her eyes. Her breath hitched with a gasp as her fingers found their place again. 

“You promised…” Kyra murmured, breathless.

“And I intend to keep that promise,” Kassandra whispered to her, “Just not yet.” 

She kissed her stomach, and just below. The taste of skin and salt, of Kyra. She felt dizzy.

_“Kass,”_ she had uttered, her name finding its way through again from the flurry of mesmerising noises she was making. It sounded so special from her voice, a sound she would never tire of hearing. It was gentle and desperate, yearning - and she took her free hand into her own, kissed every place to show her the same affection.

Kyra was close, so close; she could tell. She could see it as her back arched just slightly, as she tried to bury her head through the floor. She could feel it under her fingertips, like fire. Just seconds later, just before she had gone too far, before she had gone over the edge, she stopped her with a word. 

“Stop.” she said, and she did. She gasped, tried to breathe, but it was as if she had forgotten how. And Kassandra had forgotten too, as she watched her. What a miracle it was that the darkness had not captured her yet. 

_So this is what the poets write about,_ she had thought. Or, what they try to write about. She would pity them from then on, for how they spent lifetimes searching for the perfect sentence, the perfect word to describe something that could not be written, or even said. She wished she could forget it all, to see it for the first time again. Is that what was waiting for her in Elysium? Or to be used in the same way as torture in Tartarus?

Wrapping an arm around each leg, pulling her close and secure, Kyra’s eyes caught her own. She held them as she took her into her mouth, gave her more than everything, saw them roll back with her head as she came. She could only whimper, for whatever breath she had left was taken. Her hand held onto hers so tight her skin turned white, like it was the only thing keeping her to the ground. 

Kassandra didn’t leave her until she felt her grip relax. Kyra sat up, pulled her up hastily with her as she caught her breath and her heartbeat.

“You… You…” 

Kassandra couldn’t help but grin. 

“That good?”

“You’re infuriating.” 

“I know.” she agreed again.

But then Kyra’s expression changed. Her eyes, her lips, every line of her face softened, telling her just how wrong they both were. She looked at her like she had under the stars, after they had watched the moon and then the Pleiades go down, and never since. She brought her into a kiss that was as telling as the one before she had said to her, on the quiet dark night after, _How I don’t regret a single thing._

All of a sudden she was on her back, and Kyra was above her. The same woman who had pleaded for her only moments ago it seemed, was on top, in control, because she decided it would be so. No one else but her could do that to her; no one else but Kyra. 

If it wasn’t for how lost she became on her lips, or for how her guard had probably reached Delos by then, she perhaps would have noticed Kyra’s hand searching down behind her. But she didn’t, and when Kyra dragged her fingers between her legs with none of the restraint that she had just been given, a deep groan tore itself past her lips and onto hers before she could stop it. Kyra looked pleased with herself to say the least. Her touch, the smirk she wore - it made her burn all over. She almost laughed at herself, at how breathless she had become in just seconds.

“You could give me a heads up,” she murmured, bracing herself on her elbows.

“Mmm.” Kyra hummed, indifferent, and whispered in her ear. “But then I don’t get to hear you.” 

And at those words, she surprised herself at how the hairs on the back of her neck stood up, at the chill that ran down the length of her spine. Maybe it was a good thing she could not see her eyes at that moment; she would have been done for otherwise. 

_“Fuck,_ Kyra...” she couldn’t help but curse at how she didn’t relent in her movements. The suddenness of it all, her molten touch - it was too much in the best way. 

With Kassandra completely lost and dazed in the moment again, Kyra took the opportunity. She entered her with two fingers, and Kassandra made a stifled gasp as she instinctively clamped a hand around her wrist.

“Too much?” Kyra asked, in an innocent way that made her chuckle with what little breath she could find.

“No-” she said, with more desperation than she had intended. It had been unexpected, but not unwelcome. She didn’t want her to leave.

She released her grip and laid her head back down, letting out the breath she was holding. “I told you… You surprise me.”

“Good.”

A sigh turned to a long drawn-out moan as Kyra found a perfect rhythm within moments. If she had stopped for even a second, or held back, she would have surrendered to her, begged before she said a word, because surely she would kill her if she stopped. Is that what she wanted? Is that why it felt like pure bliss, why she was giving it to her?

No one had ever treated her like that, and she had never asked anyone to. She would give, and it would end there. She didn’t necessarily have a problem with it - but it was just how it was, how it always had been. It was like she had locked away a part of herself for years, and learned to feel a sort of shame towards it, to have a reason for hiding it. And yet here Kyra was, not only seeking it out but embracing it.

She felt naked all of a sudden; it was all so overwhelming. She squeezed her eyes shut to gain some sense of control. 

“Hey-” she heard, so faint and suddenly gentle that she wondered if she was dreaming. 

Her eyes opened at Kyra’s hand on her cheek, tilting her head towards her. 

“Look at me.” Kyra whispered, not a demand, but a plea.

She could feel it again, that ache in her gut that told her to hide. She looked away.

“Please. I need to see you.”

Why was it so hard for her to do something so simple? Why did she feel incapable for the first time in so many years? 

“I can’t,” she told her simply.

_“Trust me.”_

She felt that it would have been easier to beg, to surrender all control. But she realised then that Kyra didn’t want that. She didn’t want her to surrender a single thing. So she looked at her, though she thought her heart would surely burst through her chest. Though she could not recall ever feeling so afraid, she met her eyes. She held them to show her how she did trust her, more than anything, more than she could ever say, and Kyra looked back at her with nothing but reassurance.

Then she felt a drop on her cheek. She wondered if there was a crack in the ceiling, or if the rain had come through the window. But then she became aware of how quiet it was outside. She became aware of how her eyes burned, of how she tasted salt when it fell on her lips, and she realised that it wasn’t raining, but she was crying. And for once it was not because pain had come to her heart, but rather because the most genuine affection had been given to it - and she was crying because she had not known such love for so long. 

She made to tell her, to thank her, but she choked. “Kyra, I- I-”

But Kyra understood. “I know.”

And though she feared the shine in her eyes would fade, or turn to pity, she saw that it was absolutely unconditional. Her hand did not stray from where it seemed to be holding her head together. It didn’t leave to wipe away the tears on her cheeks, but rather let them fall and linger if they had to. 

Kyra had told her, not many nights ago, _you are allowed to let yourself feel;_ and she could not figure out why she thought so. It seemed so much easier to do the opposite. But as she cried, and the ache faded to be replaced with something indescribable, she began to understand.

With Kyra holding her eyes and her head, holding all of her in the palm of her hand, she came, shuddering. Kyra didn’t hold back from her, her touch reaching deep inside her and further, coaxing out the full extent of her release before she stilled.

Only then did Kyra break the gaze, to have her lips on hers, then her forehead. Kassandra raised herself to come forward and collapsed into her, into the crook of her neck, wrapping her arms around the small of her back as Kyra leaned into her the same. They stayed until Kassandra matched the pace of her breathing, listening to the steady beat below her ear. 

When Kyra brought her down to lay against her, it crossed her mind whether or not she would ask of her experiences away in the silence, with how keenly she had asked earlier. But, though Kyra did not say a word, Kassandra caught her eyes before they closed, and as they said _tomorrow,_ she silently agreed by falling asleep with her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I finished this much sooner than I thought - I actually finished it a couple days ago, but I spent a long time rewriting bits and adding stuff only to revert it back. I don't like it as much as I would usually want to but I think I'm happy enough with it. (I also may or may not have paraphrased some Sappho in this. I'm sorry, I have no shame at this point.)
> 
> Thank you for reading - let me know what you think.


	11. Chapter 11

_He was younger, less experienced. More importantly, he was alone. No one to protect him - no one to save him. He was timid and untrusting as such, but the confidence he had to make up for it made him erratic. She had the upper hand, and all she had to do was strike. It should have been a sure thing. But just as she drew back her arm, there was a blur past her eyes. Suddenly he lay on the ground, a spear in his throat._ The _spear, she realised, and she sighed at what that meant._

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_She heard her voice before she spotted her emerging from the trees._

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_“Hesitation only hastens-”_

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_“The grave, I know, mater.” she dropped her arms, her weapon with them._

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_Her mother strode over to where the animal lay. She drew the spear from where it was buried amongst fur, darkened with blood._

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_“You’re still not taking action,” she said simply._

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_“I was going to.”_

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_“I know. But it’s the moments in between that decide everything, lamb. Next time, you must.”_

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_She told herself to remember that._

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_Myrrine held the spear out in her hand. It glinted, mesmerising. “Your turn.”_

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_“Leonidas’ spear!” she exclaimed as she took it. It felt strange in her hands, a different weight to it. But it felt right, a mere extension of her arm._

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“ _My father's spear holds a certain burden, but... you're ready.”_

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_She looked up at her. “I am?”_

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_Myrrine looked down at the spear, once held by her father, studying it for a moment with a furrowed brow. She knelt down to speak to her. The time had finally come when Kassandra would look down, rather than up as she did so._

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_Carefully, slowly, she spoke to her. “It carries with it a long line of power. A bloodline of incredible heroes - the same blood within you and me, within our family. We are able to feel certain things happening around us; that is our gift.”_

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_Her tone lowered. “But not everyone understands that. Some recognize the power we bear, and want it only for themselves. They will try to take it from us.”_

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_“I won’t let them.”_

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_Her mother looked at her. She frowned, pitiful, and held out her hand to stroke her cheek like it was a mercy._

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_“You know you will.”_

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She woke up then, to the sinking of her heart. Her words were echoing in her head, so loud, and so real. But it wasn’t. _It wasn’t real,_ she would tell herself, as she always did; but it didn’t feel fake. Usually she would sit up with a jerk from her dreams, by instinct - like it could only have been danger to wake her up, a punishment for sleeping with two closed eyes. But there was a weight on her chest, keeping her grounded. 

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It was Kyra, she remembered. She forgot everything else then. 

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She paid attention to the length of her own body and how Kyra’s was against it, the feeling not rushing back but slowly sleeping in, like it would be too much otherwise. She focused on her toes up to her head, on where her skin was on hers, on how it was colder where she wasn’t. She felt the warm breath on her neck that made her shiver, the hands that held onto her even in sleep, the slight rise and fall of her chest just below hers, where her head rested. 

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Like a revelation, like hearing the sound of a long lost voice, she remembered how perfect she felt in her embrace. After seeing it too many times, from first sight to when she foolishly thought she could handle it, she knew that Kyra was like a raging fire. But there, in her arms and on her skin, she did not burn, only warmed. 

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Had she woken her? She hadn’t shifted, so she thought not. Part of her wished she had, to have a reason to hear her voice, see her eyes lighten as they met hers. But she could stay with her there, asleep, for hours. 

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She was proven wrong when Kyra spoke. “What are you thinking about?” she had asked, the slur of sleep still in her whisper. She looked up at her with heavy, half-open eyes. 

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_You._

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“Nothing.”

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_Coward._

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Kyra smiled at her and let her eyes fall shut. “Liar,” she mumbled, and found her way back to the few minutes of sleep she had left. 

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It wasn’t long before she had opened her eyes again, lazily focused on where her fingers traced the scars on Kassandra’s shoulder, of the arm draped across her back. Awakened as seamlessly as gradually as she had fallen to sleep.

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“You were dreaming?” she said, more of an observation than a question.

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“I was.”

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“Will you tell me?”

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“It’s nothing captivating.”

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“I don’t want you to tell me so I can be entertained. I just want to know you.” 

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She knew for certain then that Kyra had a tendency to say heavy things in passing by. She hadn’t skipped a beat in saying that. Too many seconds passed without an answer as she considered the question of if anyone ever _knew_ her. Or if she even let them in the first place. 

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Kyra gave her arm a light squeeze to draw her attention back. “So tell me.”

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“It felt more like a memory, really. Of my mother, when I was young, and we were together, in Sparta. We were hunting in the green hills, where it was quiet. Peaceful. No one else around but us."

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A particular feeling sprung onto her senses, and she smiled as she reminisced. The fresh air, sharp and cold as it was at dawn; shuffling, whistling leaves; the rising sun, coming through the trees, always managing to find her eyes. She missed it. It was simpler then, and never since it seemed. Her mother hadn't lied when the spear held a burden - had she known it would turn out in such a way? Would she have given it to her if she did?

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"I longed for those mornings. It seemed like I would be training every other minute, it was exhausting. But with her, it was easier. It held more purpose, I think. She taught me not with what she showed me, but with what she said, and I remember most everything. She gave me my grandfather's spear that day, her father's - the one she had held for a generation. She told me...” her voice faded as her mother’s words stung her again in remembrance.

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“Mmm?”

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“I can’t remember,” she said simply, but it was the only thought in her head. She struggled to recall what she had truly said that day. _It wasn’t real,_ she told herself again, _it didn’t happen._ But in just minutes, it was a reassurance that had become worn down to a frail shell. 

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If Kyra noticed her turmoil, she chose not to bother it further. She merely nodded, and let her palm rest on her arm. Her thumb stroked there to bring some comfort. 

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“You speak of her with some sense of joy. I could not hear it before.”

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“I suppose I was doubtful.”

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“And now you need not be.”

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There was no denying that she noticed the silence that hung then. But she moved on again.

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“I hadn’t expected you back so soon. It sounded like you didn’t have a heading. How did you manage to find her so easily?”

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“The pirate, on Keos. She knew where she was.”

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“And how much did that cost you?”

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“Too much,” she scoffed. “But she was right. I found her on Naxos. Not just living there, but ruling.” 

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“Phoenix is your mother?”

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“You know her?”

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“I know _of_ her, from whispers and the like. Podarkes had great ties with Silanos. It seemed like Naxos was the only power fighting Samos and their corruption. From what I’ve heard, she’s a grand leader.”

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“I can’t say it surprised me too much.”

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“What is she like?” 

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“She’s…” she couldn’t find the right words. But with a light laugh, she realised soon enough. “She’s a lot like me, actually.”

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“What, Spartan?”

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“In many ways, yes,” she smiled, humorously then softer. “But also not at all.”

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“Go on.”

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“She’s warm; compassionate, in a way that I have never seen a Spartan. She doesn’t just act with heart, but with her own - and it can get her into trouble.”

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“That does sound like you.”

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She didn’t know what to say to that. But Kyra didn’t appear to be looking for an answer. It was merely another passing thought, it seemed. 

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“What’s next for you, then?”

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“Soon I’ll meet her in Sparta. We’ll find what we can, and… we’ll get him back.” 

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It all sounded so simple, saying it aloud. 

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“What will you do, when you find him?”

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“Truth be told... I don’t really know.” She took a second to think about it. “I’ve been so focused on just _finding_ him, and that still feels so far away... So I don’t know. They raised him since he was a baby, on nothing but lies, he doesn’t know anything else. I don’t know how to help him. I don’t know what to do.” 

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“You will know when the time comes.”

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“I hope so. I just- I’m afraid that he’s too far gone.” Her body had become hard and unmoving as she spoke, not even the rise and fall of her chest. She was holding her breath, speaking barely a whisper, to stop her words from wavering. “I will never give up on him, and I will do everything I can. But I fear that it won’t be enough.”

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Kyra let the silence stay for a moment before she began. “I once thought that it was my responsibility to take down Podarkes by myself. For a long time, I refused the help of many - I turned away those who were willing to fight with me. Maybe it was my pride, or my mistrust, it does not matter. I got nowhere. But when I gave in, well… you see what happened. You, most of all, taught me that it’s okay to rely on others, whether you meant to or not.” 

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She moved to look at her, but her eyes were lost, set on empty space.

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“You cannot do everything alone, Kassandra. This burden, this weight that you carry - it is not for your shoulders alone.

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“It has to be. I failed to save him once already - I can’t fail again.”

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“I doubt you will.” 

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Kyra shifted off of her then, and sat beside her to look at her directly, though Kassandra was still distant.

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“Kassandra-” she called her attention softly, so that she wouldn’t just hear but see how important her words were. Perhaps she could give her some strength by showing her certainty. But she looked so afraid. 

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“If you can’t save him-” Kassandra flinched away just at the idea, and she placed a hand on her cheek to keep her forward. She spoke more firmly. “You will still survive. You may not believe that, but you’ll be okay. I need you to remember that.”

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As she nodded hesitantly, her eyes flickering away, she seemed to finally breathe, with a deep sigh.

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“You tend to be as strong as you believe. So do it for me, will you?”

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Kassandra looked at her distantly, her eyes glazed over. Maybe it was a defense, or maybe it was genuine, but Kyra could tell she didn’t know what she meant. She trusted that, in time, whether knowingly or not, she would learn.

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“Okay.”

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It wasn’t a promise, but it was something. She took it.

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As she dropped her hand, Kassandra caught it to hold. “Now come back,” she said, pulling her back to her. “Please.”

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She smiled at her, and let herself be taken back into her grasp without protest.

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“You don’t have to do that, you know.”

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“Do what?”

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“Say please. I’m not going anywhere.”

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“It doesn’t hurt.”

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“Hmm.” She craned her head back to look up at her. “I suppose I do like hearing you say it.”

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Kassandra raised her eyebrows. “Is that so? I’ll try not to remind you of that.”

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Kyra laughed, the purest sound that she hadn’t heard in so long it seemed. She realised how much she had missed it, how she had taken it for granted. When their lips met then, they smiled on one another.

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Kassandra parted with a thought, the sun high enough to shine through and warm her skin. “I’m not keeping you from anything today, am I?”

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“Oh misthios, I have so much on this day, you have no idea.” Kyra’s words, ‘no’ not being one of them, drew the colour from her eyes and her cheeks before she realised her game. 

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“Come to think of it, I’m actually already late for-” Suddenly her words were cut short with laughter as she was flipped onto her back, and her lips were taken back.

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“You scared me,” she told her soon after, in a moment of space. 

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Kyra was smirking at her, in the way that had stuck with her while she had been away, and still did. Her blood would turn cold then boil within a moment; she had a habit of doing that to her.

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“I didn’t realise it was that easy to scare you, Eagle Bearer.”

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_If only you knew,_ she thought. 

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-

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The decision to spend the day’s final hours on the shore certainly wasn’t regretted. It was hypnotizing as the sun set. And with Kyra still right with her, in her arms when the daylight had begun its departure, it was even more so.

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Though when her eyes had drifted to the very edge of her vision, to catch where the sand diverged out far into the water, where too much blood had been spilt, the dream was broken. 

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“You’re lost again,” Kyra had said softly. “What’s wrong?”

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“Why would something be wrong?”

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“You’re tense.”

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“It’s nothing,” she said, realising too late how foolish it was to think that would go unacknowledged.

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Kyra shifted in her lap to face her. She took her hands, brought a palm to her lips before keeping hold of them, to tell her she could say anything.

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“Talk to me. What’s troubling you?”

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“I…” Her voice quietened, as she fought over whether or not to drop it. “I think we should talk about it, Kyra.”

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“About what?”

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“Please. Don’t make me say it.”

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Kyra looked down and shook her head. There was a chill when she let her hands go.

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She spoke quietly. “There’s nothing to talk about.”

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That didn’t make sense to her. It felt like there was too much to talk about; and it worried her how Kyra had seemed to just forget. 

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“Is that really how you feel?”

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“I don’t know what to feel, Kassandra.”

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It was a conflict that reflected in her eyes when they returned to her. She couldn’t quite make out anger or sadness, just remnants of them. The chaos in her head was showing through.

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“I have already thought about it far too much.” she added.

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“You’re trying to forget?”

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“No. That would be… a tragedy.” She paused. “I’m trying to accept it, to move on.”

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“And have you?”

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“No.” She smiled sadly. “Not even close. But I’m trying.”

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Everything Kyra had said was stacking up, a pile that grew faster than she could understand.

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“To talk about it now, in the way you’re suggesting - it would only be painful. I have said what I have needed. I do not wish to say it again. It would lose its meaning.”

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Kyra saw that perhaps she had taken that the wrong way.

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“You know that I do not blame you, Kassandra. I don’t think I ever did. I was just angry that things happened as they did.”

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“I know.”

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Kyra took a deep breath. “Nonetheless… I don’t think it would do any good for us to speak of it. Not unless new words or meanings come to your lips, or to mine.”

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What Kyra was saying was a lot to digest. She didn’t quite know what it meant. And it had hung on the air for too long. 

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“Maybe I’ve spoken out of turn…”

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“Of course not.”

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With a nod, Kyra stood, and taking her outstretched hand, she did too.

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“I think you need to let go, Kassandra,” she said, as if it was simple.

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“What do you mean?”

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“You tend to keep everything inside. You hold onto what you feel. It may be the only difference between you and I. But you shouldn’t. I see how it hurts you.”

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“I just- I feel like-“ she sighed with frustration. “I don’t know.”

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Kyra gave a small smile in spite of everything. _I don’t know,_ she said to her, as she had just laid out the answer. Perhaps she had spent too long peering into shadows and guarding her back to see what was right in front of her. She couldn’t blame her for that.

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“Just know for now, that I’m with you,” she said. “Is that enough?” 

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There was a breathlessness in her voice as she replied. “It’s everything.”

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**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the wait, this chapter took a lot of re-writing and re-arranging. Hope you enjoy nonetheless. Thank you for reading!


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (If you have any letter logic or time logic, please discard of it before reading, thanks)

“Kassandra, _thank the gods!”_

It wasn’t quite the greeting she had expected, arriving at the docks. Nor had she expected to see - or, more notably, hear - such commotion coming from the deck as she had neared. Voices yelling and arguing; though it could hardly be called an argument with one struggling to be so much as heard. 

She made her way onto the deck where they stood, a foul tension in the air. 

“Odessa,” she exclaimed, “So happy to see me. What’s the problem?”

Barnabas looked exhausted, catching his breath with her attention shifted. “It would be easier to ask her what _isn’t_ the problem, captain,” he sneered. 

She merely spoke over him. “There isn’t one, so long as we’re leaving this gods forsaken island.”

“It seems we do have a problem then. Well, you do, at least.”

Odessa’s demeanor changed rather quickly. She uncrossed her arms to point a finger at her. “I know I have not spent weeks at sea just to sit around all day for you. I’ve gotten less adventure than my bed-ridden father.”

“Oof. He got off easy.”

Kassandra was the one to sigh then. 

“Look, Odessa, I like having you around,” she said, to which Barnabas stifled a laugh with a snort. Odessa shot him a glare of pure poison. _“But,_ if this isn’t for you, I’d be happy to let you off somewhere. I can take you straight back to Ithaka, if you’d like?”

To that, she grumbled and stormed off to the opposite end of the ship. Barnabas gave a sigh of relief. He looked at Kassandra, shaking his head.

Another finger was pointed at her. “I blame you for this.”

“What?”

“Kassandra - I adore you - But this is entirely your fault. You’re the one who brought her on this ship.”

“Hey, now. To be fair, she wasn’t always that bad.”

“But now I have to deal with her!”

“And I am _terribly_ sorry for you. But it shouldn’t be much longer until we leave.”

He perked up suddenly from his fit. “Oh, that reminds me!” 

He dug out a scroll from his person. “A messenger came with this not too long ago. I was about to send Odessa to give it to you because I would have thrown her off the ship otherwise - but here you are.”

It was a letter. As she read, Barnabas poured out a passionate rant upon deaf ears, about there being _‘too damn many women on this ship.'_

_My lamb,_ it read, _I hope this finds you well. Take two nights, and meet me at the foot of Taygetos. We may start, together; something has risen in Sparta to lead us. I trust I will see you soon. May Poseidon carry you well._

“Well? What do you say?” He was apparently finished with his ramblings, to her surprise.

“Odessa will be happy. Another two nights and we’ll set sail.”

“Oh, thank the gods!” He exclaimed, clasping his hands together. “You know, I was saying we take her back to where she came from, but Kephallonia? That’s brilliant!”

She frowned, puzzled. “What? No. We’ll leave for Sparta. What are you talking about?” 

That made him practically giddy. “Ooh, Sparta could be good, now that you mention it.” He laughed at the thought. “Hah! She wouldn’t last a minute. You are a genius!

She sighed, bringing a hand to her forehead.

“No, Barnabas, my mother is there. Odessa’s not going anywhere as long as she pulls her weight.”

He grumbled like a sulking child. “You would say different if you had been here. But whatever you say goes. Though, with all respect, I completely disagree.” 

“I’m sure you’ll get used to her,” she reassured with a shrug.

“Would you ask Prometheus to get used to an eagle, Kassandra?

“I think that might be a _bit_ different, Barnabas.”

He gave up. “Well. Regardless. It is nice to see you, though unexpected. Is Kyra busy?”

The question took her off guard. “Why would you assume that?”

Barnabas just smiled.

“Is it not why you’re here?”

“...She _is_ busy, yes.”

“Haha! And now the mighty Kassandra is twiddling her thumbs! Who would’ve thought.”

“Hmph.” She made her way over to lean against the rail, the ocean set before her eyes. She muttered. “Not for much longer.”

Looking over, Naxos was peeking out at the edge of the island. She had been there the entire time; how cruel hindsight could be. But she wouldn’t be there then. She would be far away, out of reach, past the horizon. 

Barnabas was beside her, she realised. He was looking at her quizzically.

“I have a feeling Poseidon’s open arms may be met but not welcomed by you.” 

“Then you would be right, I suppose.”

“We’ve come this far.” He gestured out at the sea. “Why so hesitant now?”

“I’m happy here. I can forget.” He appeared a blur when she glanced at him. She couldn’t look at him, for fear of the slightest crease on his face that would suggest disapproval.

“I haven’t had that in a long time,” she said, quiet. “I don’t want to lose it.”

Through the corner of her eye, she could see him nod. Hopefully he understood.

He spoke to her gently, in a way that almost made his voice a stranger, as opposed to how loud it usually boomed. “Happiness is not rooted, my friend,” he said. “It can come and go, stay or follow. And it can hide in many places, all at once.”

She looked aside at him with a faint smile. “I didn’t know you had a poetic side, Barnabas. You sound like Sokrates.”

He chuckled. “I’ll pretend that was a compliment.”

“I meant, you’re not making any sense.”

Barnabas just smiled. He turned to face her.

“Just remember why you’re doing this.”

“It can’t be for nothing.”

He patted a firm hand on her shoulder. “It won’t be. It’s already got you far, has it not? Maybe it's not whole yet, but you have found your family. Your efforts have not been in vain.”

_“Our_ efforts.”

“You flatter me! I’m just grateful to be by your side through all this.”

There was much to say, and it all rushed through her head haphazardly as she thought of how to say it. It was too much, and she was not ready for it. Later, she promised herself, when the seas are calmer. For the time being, she would settle for just the beginning of it all.

“I’m grateful to have you, Barnabas.”

-

It was somewhat disappointing to find that the one building she had had her eye on for quite some time did not stretch as high as she had expected. From the shores it appeared to span to the clouds. But, sat at the top, it seemed that was merely a trick of the eye, made especially for her. 

And to add to that annoyance, Ikaros would not shut up. 

She looked at him, perched beside her. _“What?”_

He squawked at her.

“I already fed you.”

Another squawk.

“No. Stop it.”

He didn’t listen. She sighed. 

“Why don’t you go and do something useful? Go and catch a mouse or something.” At last, as she waved him off, he left with a flap of his wings. “But don’t bring it to me!” she shouted after him. “I don’t want it.”

She had caught a single breath when she heard him again, sounding off as he circled above the street. 

“Ugh. I can’t catch a break.”

On the off chance the fuss wasn’t about nothing, she peered down below him, and smiled as she came to see that he had taken a liking to someone. 

Kyra was not hard to miss. The purposeful stride she took, the dark shine to every quality it seemed. Those who knew her were drawn to greet her, and those that she didn’t, she acknowledged just the same. It had not taken long for her to realise she was charming in more ways than one; at the least, more than the charming intimidation she had introduced herself with. It seemed natural to her, and most of all, effective. 

The day had felt all too long, and suddenly its near end was looming. But she knew how to take a couple of minutes back. 

She stood to jump down, forgetting that such a thing may be somewhat startling. And when she did, landing in front of her nose with a thud, Kyra had reached for her blade, even in the midst of a heart attack. Then she realised it was not, in fact, an assassin, but rather a bumbling mercenary.

“Don’t-” She stammered before giving her a shove that went easy on her. _“Do that!_ I told you last time.”

Kassandra regained her balance and rubbed the back of her neck. 

“Sorry.”

Kyra looked at her for a moment, at the smile she failed to restrain and the shine in her eyes, and couldn’t help but reflect it. She crossed her arms to avoid giving her too much.

“I think we both know you’re quite pleased with yourself, misthios.” 

“I’m just happy to see you.”

“You missed me so soon?”

“I think you know.”

She looked at her a moment longer before taking her hand.

“Come.”

-

Inside, Kyra finished changing at the edge of the room as she told her.

“I wanted to tell you," Kassandra said, sat at the edge of the bed, "my mother expects me. I’ll set sail, soon.”

“I thought as much." 

Kyra turned to her. “I was thinking about something… You said your course was set for Sparta.”

“That’s right.”

“Sparta will be dangerous, will it not?”

“Perhaps,” she shrugged. “But so is everywhere and anywhere else. From what I know, the cult is spread to every city and state. They’re everywhere.” 

“It’s not just that. Sparta is _Sparta,_ and it's far, and I - I-” she took a breath to speak calmly. “I worry about you.”

“Don’t go to such trouble. You know I’m used to it."

“Not _this,_ Kassandra. You told me you haven’t been to Sparta since what happened. It sounds like they would be out for your neck there. Not to mention this cult.”

“I can handle it. Do you think I can't?”

Kyra laughed, light hearted. It seemed she always found a way to miss the point. “It’s not about that,” she said, lighter. “You could be a demigod for all I care. Maybe you are. But I will always worry about you.”

“Why so much now? You were content during the rebellion.”

Kyra didn’t miss a beat. “I had a handle on the rebellion. Podarkes was a familiar face, as was his regime. I spent a lifetime in the middle of it, so it became predictable. Not to mention, I was with you. You are going in blind and alone.” 

“Whatever is in Sparta… It’s nothing to me.”

“Exactly.” Kassandra frowned, asking for an answer. “You tend to underestimate other people.”

She processed that quietly. Kyra came across to her. She reached out, placing her hands on her shoulders, seeking some sort of a response.

Kassandra looked up at her. “Like you?” she asked.

“...I assume so,” she replied simply, with a shrug, praying the reverse was true. 

Kassandra nodded. She took her by the waist, slid her hands across the small of her back before they returned. 

“Well, perhaps you’re right.” 

She took hold of her then, pulling her forward to sit close in her lap.

“But if there’s one thing I can tell you for sure,” she inclined her head, moved dark hair aside, and whispered in her ear. “I _never_ underestimated you, Kyra.”

Kyra let out a sharp breath that had been trapped. Her stomach sank at those words, whispered hot against her skin. And then her lips were on her jaw, down the nape of her neck, and her hands were the only rival to distract her. It managed to sink further. It was bottomless.

Through a deep sigh, in which all the tensions of the day unravelled, she thought aloud. “I wish you knew how you make me feel…”

Her reply was murmured onto her neck. “I do.”

Kyra made enough space between them to look at her. “How?”

Kassandra smiled softly, at the surprise on her face, in her voice. She looked down.

“You say we’re not that different…” she said, taking her hand. She pressed it to her chest. “That’s how. You do that to me. It’s the same, no?” She took her hand away from Kyra’s, where it stayed, and tilted her chin up to her. Her eyes met hers, and they were tentative, for the first time in a long time.

“You underestimate yourself, Kyra.”

In earlier days, wasted hours of teasing and flirting, that may have been answered with the wit she knew so well. _I don’t think so, misthios,_ she would have said, perhaps. _I threw a blade past the Eagle Bearer’s nose, did I not?_ But with everything clear, her mouth was empty, as to not waste breath on words that would not suffice. 

With the tender way she touched her that night, she seemed to have taken those words to heart. Just as she had wanted her to. 

-

Kyra’s fingers were delicate, no less than gentle, moving aside the hair that clung slick to her forehead to see her better. And she saw a glimmer in her eyes, an ironic shine that she had only ever seen in them once or twice before. They struggled to meet hers. Her brow was in a knot. 

When her hand left its place, Kassandra caught it to hold. She looked at it for a long moment, before she finally met her eyes and whispered to her. 

“I’m sorry.”

There was silence as she waited - for an explanation, an elaboration. Then she said it again, until she faltered. “I’m sorry. I hurt you. I never meant to, Kyra, I- I never…”

She reached out her hand to stroke her cheek, giving no response save for nodding. She had to say something - she knew that she should - but not a word would come. The silence was making it worse, and Kassandra was breaking her heart, and yet she didn’t know what to say. 

Even though so quiet, her voice began to break as she went on. Tears met her fingers as her eyes closed, and she leaned into her hand. 

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry…”

Not able to bear the sight any longer, she pulled her head to her chest where she could comfort her. Finally she spoke. “I know. _It’s okay.”_

The air was still, empty, but her cheek was wet against her skin. She barely made a sound as she cried, like there was no energy to spare. 

She began to say something else, something that had become too heavy to hold on to. Something that she needed her to know despite how much it scared her.

“I… I…” 

“Shhh. Save your breath.”

Perhaps it didn’t change anything; maybe she couldn’t have said it anyway, and maybe she already knew. Yet, as she choked it down, there was a lump in her throat, and it left no room for air.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's kinda messy but I wanted to get it out. I might polish it later. Thanks for reading, and merry christmas!


End file.
